The Lady of Shalott
by WarAdmiral
Summary: There is a pathalogical need born into every elemental to regain the easy control over their lives they had before their powers surfaced. What happens if they don't? Simple. They go crazy.
1. Prologue

**Author:** War Admiral out of Man O' War by Brush Up  
**Archive:** I would seriously love you forever if you did, but just ask me first.  
**Disclaimer:** None of the characters from Sky High belong to me. Grumbles  
**Rating:** PG-13, or T  
**Setting: **After the movie, starts on the first day of their sophomore year.

**Guest starring:** Michelle Trachtenberg as Hannah Cromwell

* * *

_There she weaves by night and day_

_A magic web with colors gay._

_She has heard a whisper say,_

_A curse is on her if she stay_

_To look down on Camelot._

_She knows not what the curse may be,_

_And so she weaveth steadily,_

_And little other care hath she,_

_The Lady of Shalott_

The Lady of Shallot

Sir Alfred Tennyson

* * *

Prologue

_Of all of those with super-powers, the elementals are by far the most complicated. Allow me to explain._

_When one has say, super-strength, that's it, they can hit things really hard. It doesn't mean that they are automatically going to have a bad disposition, or even a good one._

_But the elementals are different. When their powers are activated, they _become_ that power. For instance, it doesn't matter if they enjoyed running bunnies over with lawnmowers, if they become an earth elemental, they will feel the uncontrollable need to protect nature. _

_Many don't understand this. They fail to see the true lack of control that elementals have over their own personalities. Because of this, they are often looked down upon for various reasons, depending on their power._

_**Earth:** The earth elemental values all life, no matter what. Because of this, they rarely if ever use their powers to harm others. Even if they do, they will chose to disarm, or detain in some way, rather then cause physical damage. They are peaceful, kind, and sensitive, even though their pacifism has been known to cause problems._

_**Water and Air:** Water and air elementals are so similar that they can be spoken of together. The nature of both is to be happy, light-hearted, and gentle. But very few have a true grasp of the strength of their abilities, and may often harm unintentionally. Even as the storm makes the gentle ocean a powerful destructive force, a weather manipulator working with an air or water elemental is a force to be reckoned with._

_**Ice:** Contrary to some belief, water and ice are quite different elements. Granted, they are the same component in different forms, but their abilities and personalities are extremely different (Though it should be noted, while rare, there have been several water elementals who could create ice). They are calm, thoughtful, and often cold, if you will pardon the pun. While strong, they prefer to think things through before making a decision. However, their reserved persona is often off-putting for those who don't know them well. _

_**Fire:** If earth is the food of mankind, water the drink, and air the breath, then fire is the soul. The fire elemental, or pyrokinetics, as they are more commonly called, is by far the most destructive of them all. Known for their harsh tempers, when they aren't try to roast someone alive, they seem to 'smolder', waiting for someone to upset them, and the flame bursts to life again. Not that they are all bad. They are known, though not so widely, as being fiercely protective of their friends (When they manage to find someone who isn't scared silly of them). These elementals reflect the strength, intensity, and beauty of the flame._

_There are some, however, who have control over all the elements. There is no real name for them, so we will simply call them 'elementals'._

_The average elemental will spend the first six to ten years of their life living a normal childhood. But everything changes when they 'power up'. They will usually begin with something small, accidentally calling something to them, a rush of air, a puddle of water, or making a small flower grow from a seed._

_All of these are quite harmless, and can be done fairly easily, as these elements are quite docile, and tend to listen to one more often then… well… that's where things get sticky._

_You see the elementals power is not as all encompassing as one who can control a single element. In order for it to work they must, in a way, 'ask' the element to do whatever it is they want done. In order for this to work, they can't make whatever element do things that are technically impossible. Water can't appear out of nowhere; plants can't grow without seeds, etc._

_Soon enough the young elemental will realize that in order to keep the elements around them under control, they must keep themselves under control. See, for single-ments, a personal joke, it is easy to control their element because they essentially _are_ that element. For the others, it is much harder because like most weather controllers, they control them with their emotions. Plants, with gentility, water and air with joy, ice with calmness, and fire with anger. They learn that they must be constantly aware of their feelings or people around them **will** get hurt._

_Later on things only get better. As they get older the elemental may eventually try something more challenging, like controlling fire. That's when everything goes south. You see, fire doesn't listen to people, and it doesn't obey, no matter how nicely you ask. To control it, a person would have to be able to turn their negative feeling on and off like a light switch, and while they may be able to do this easier with feeling like happiness, it's just not possible when it comes to anger and rage. _

_After finding out that trying to use fire will only get their eyebrows singed, they will go on a crusade to find a way to control it. They know that there must be some way, there is a way to control everything, isn't there?_

_I say this with such certainty because I have seen it so many times before. There is a pathological need born into every elemental to find a way to regain the easy control over their lives that they had before their powers surfaced. As of now, no one has ever found a way, except for the blessed few who managed to rid themselves of their abilities._

_What happens if they don't, you ask? Simple, they go crazy. And I don't mean crazy-angry or something like that. At best they will just be a little now-now, at worst they will go all out homicidal in their mad quest for peace._

_I imagine all of this sounds very strange to you. I can understand why. But hey, at least we don't turn into a puddle of goo, or have acid spit like some lily-livered gits I know._

_To conclude, I urge anyone who reads this to re-think his or her view on elementals. Why? Because we have it a heck of a lot harder than you think._

* * *

September, the month looked forward to by some and feared by most. When children around the nation are pulled from blissful laziness and forced back into the hostile, unforgiving environment known as school. To Leyla Price, the only thing that was worse then that was the fact that her particular school had yet to ban the barbaric tradition of 'power placement'.

"_Fascism at its best."_ She thought to herself as she sat at the table in her boyfriend's kitchen.

Will Stronghold, able to lift just about anything, fly, with brown hair and puppy-dog brown eyes, as well as his unshakable kindness and sense of justice, was just about everything a girl could want.

And he was _her_ boyfriend.

Not that Leyla was into the whole possessive, self-centeredness that prevailed in the world, but she was still a fifteen-year-old girl, and she loved to say that.

She turned her attention back to the other occupant of the room, Josie Stronghold, a.k.a 'Jetstream', and 'Will's mom'.

"So apparently they've changed things since I went to Sky High. Now instead of waiting for graduation, heroes pick their sidekicks in sophomore year."

Josie turned and smiled affectionately at the redheaded earth elemental.

"Of course, Will is going to pick you."

Leyla nodded. "Probably."

It didn't really need to be said. Will and Leyla had been attached at the hip since preschool. They had started dating just after the rather… ahem… eventful freshmen homecoming dance.

Just then, Will came bounding down the stairs at full force. She loved him, but even Leyla had to admit that his sense of time lacked something to be desired. He made up for it with a quick kiss hello.

As they began to talk about the new school year the phone rang, and Josie went to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Josie. This is Brook."_

Josie smiled. Brook Cromwell was the wife of an old friend of her husband's. She hadn't heard from her in months, as she had apparently had a rather nasty bout of post-partum depression after the birth of her first child.

"Brook! How nice to hear from you! How are you?" She asked.

"_I'm good."_

"And Peter?"

"_He's good too. We've been a bit overwhelmed with the new baby, but we're doing quite well."_

Peter, her husband, was the son of a super-hero, and though he himself didn't have any powers, his father had been a powerful shifter, being able to change into a lion.

"_But Josie, I have a small favor to ask of you. You remember Peter's daughter?"_

Josie thought for a moment. "Yes, a little. She's in England isn't she?"

"_She was at a boarding school for girls with powers, but after I was diagnosed Peter sent for her to help take care of me and the baby. She's going to be going to Sky High now."_

"Ah." She replied. "What is it you need?"

"_Well, she's a little shy, and I know your son is going to be in the same year as her, so I was hoping that he could keep an eye on her, help her out so she isn't all alone there."_

"Of course. And Leyla Price is here too."

There was a soft laugh at the other end.

"_Yeah. I can't believe that little Will has a girlfriend, much less little Leyla Price!"_

"I know. He's growing up so fast. He's fifteen now, and he just shot up to 5'9" over the summer."

"_Hannah, Peter's girl, will be sixteen in December. I can barely believe how much she's grown since her last visit. Anyway I have to go, baby's being fussy. I think Hannah is going on the same bus as Will. He'll know her right away; she has her father's nose. I'll talk to you later."_

After hanging up, Josie explained what she had discussed.

"Her father's nose?" Asked Leyla.

The other woman laughed. "A personal joke. He has this cute little nose that's the bane of his existence."

"Hey! I remember him!" Will said with a laugh. "He's the son of umm… what's his name…"

"Leo." Leyla supplied. "Also known as Jonathan Cromwell. Retired superhero, and deceased."

Josie nodded. "Peter never got any powers, but he has a lot of influence, and has done a lot to help out superheroes in the past."

Under his breathe, Will muttered, "Owning half of the businesses in Maxville Metropolis will do that."

"I heard that." His mother scolded.

…

On the bus, Will and Leyla took the seats behind their friends, Zach and Magenta, and across from their other friend, Ethan. They briefly told them about Hannah.

"A Brit huh?" Asked Zach.

"Actually," Leyla corrected. "She was born here, but she was sent to a boarding school in England three years ago."

"What for?" He replied.

Will shrugged. "No one knows. They say that the school she went to is specifically for girls who can't control their powers."

"Is she hot?" Came a voice from the back, far back, of the bus.

"Shut up, Larry. Hey, I don't think we've ever gone down this road on our route before." Magenta said.

The houses they now saw where all the older houses left from when the city was first built. But unlike other parts of town, where the Victorian mansions were all rundown, the people in this neighborhood had taken painstaking effort to keep them in top condition. Well-tended gardens, freshly painted exteriors, and period lawn furniture abounded. The bus pulled to a stop in front of a particularly nice one. It was a robin's-egg-blue, with a single turret, and a spacious porch going around the front.

On the porch stood a young girl. When she saw the bus, she grabbed a lavender colored backpack from beside her, and half skipped, half ran down the pathway. As she stepped on, she stopped momentarily to look at all the strange faces. When she caught sight of the five friends, she gave a shy smile, and walked over hesitantly.

Looking at Leyla, she asked, "You're Leyla Price aren't you?"

Her accent was not quite the cultured sound of the upper class, but still far from the harsher sound of the Cockney, or Liverpool accents. In a word, it was relaxed.

Leyla nodded in response. "Yes. Are you Hannah?"

"Yeah." The girl replied with a smile. "But you can call me Anna, or Ann, or any derivative thereof that strikes your fancy."

She smiled as well. "Great. This is Will Stronghold, that's Zach and Magenta, and over there is Ethan."

Ann shook hands with each of them, asking a polite "How do you do?" to each. Ethan scooted to the side so she could sit next to him, and she smiled her thanks.

Looking her over, she was an interesting looking girl. She was about 5'7", her straight, light brown hair was braided and pinned back in a bun, her eyes were large and a blue-gray color, her mouth was a little too wide, with full lips, and her nose was, in fact, cute and little. Her choice of dress was simple, black jeans, black hiking boots, and a pale blue mock-turtleneck. She wore no makeup, and her only jewelry was a small, pale gray-blue stone on a delicate silver chain.

"So." Will said, trying to make conversation. "I hear you just came over from the UK?"

"Yeah. I was staying at a school over there for girls who can't control their powers very well. Mine went kind of bonkers three years ago, and so my Father had me go over there to help me learn to work with them better."

Zach leaned over the back of the seats.

"So what _are_ your powers?" He asked.

She grinned in response. "You'll see. Don't you worry, I haven't _seriously_ injured anyone for months now."

"How long have you been here?" Asked Leyla.

"And how long are you staying?" Larry added from the back of the bus.

Ann turned around in her seat to look at him.

"I don't believe we've been introduced."

There was a resounded "Ooh" from around the bus, and another girl leaned over to whack Larry upside the head.

"Don't you know you can't talk to someone unless you've been introduced in England?" She reprimanded.

Ann cleared her throat. "Er, yes, well. I have been here for about four months now, and as far as I know I will be staying."

At that precise moment, the seat belts came into place, plastering them against the back of their chairs, and the restraining bar came over their laps.

"Oh yeah." Leyla said. "There's something you might want to know about this bus."

Ann looked over at her, her eyes now impossibly wide.

"No way." She emphasized each word clearly, her eyes begging for someone to tell her that her fear was unfounded.

And then they fell.

Freshmen screamed with fear, everyone else shouted with glee, and Ann gripped the bar in front of her so hard her knuckles went completely white, as did her face. When they finally landed, they had to gently pry her hands off. By then, she was shaking softly.

"I… _hate_… flying." She chocked out.

Leyla patted her shoulder and crooned over her until the other girl calmed down enough so that she could stumble off of the bus.

"You'll get used to it." Will tried to reassure her. But she just shook her head.

"I don't think so. I've been on quite a few flights in my life, and I still hate it. Heights I can stand, speed I can stand, but put them together and…" She trailed off, waving her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"No way."

They all looked at where Zach was pointing. Ann cocked her head, squinted, and added.

"I second that. Will you please excuse me?" Before scurrying off in that direction.

…

"_No way."_ Ann Cromwell kept repeating to herself in her head as she ran to catch up the retreating figure. But as she got closer, she realized that it was exactly who she thought.

"Andy!" She called. The figure stopped. There was only one girl who still called him that. As he turned around, his eyes widened.

"Hey!" He called in surprise.

"Andy." She said again as she came up to him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in prison?"

Andrew Baker shrugged. "They let me out on parole for good behavior."

"You?" She asked in disbelief.

He shrugged again. "Would you believe it? What about you? I thought you were still in boarding school."

"They let me out on parole for good behavior." She quipped.

"You two know each other?"

The two turned around to find Will staring at them. She nodded.

"Yeah. Guys, this is Andy, he's an old… em…" She looked at him curiously. "What would one call you?"

"I don't know. Surrogate brother? Self-appointed-protector-of-the-cuteness?"

Will frowned. "We've already met."

Ann grinned. "That's right. Will and his friends are the ones who busted your bum for helping out that villain."

He nodded. "They did. And she was a _super_-villain."

"Whoa." Zach said as he caught up. "I was right. Lash _is_ back."

"Lash?" Ann asked, turning to her old friend. "I thought we had a little talk about gitty nicknames."

"I don't understand." Leyla said. "How can you be friends with _Lash_?"

Ann drew herself up to her full height and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I was friends with his sister back in England. She was the only other American there. When Andy came to visit, he helped me with a… _problem_ I had. I owe him quite a bit."

"But he's a jerk!" Leyla protested. "He spends his time bullying sidekicks!"

The other girl fought back a smile. " I would guess as much. He hates sidekicks."

"And your still friends with him?" Asked Zach.

Before Ann could respond, Lash leaned over and tugged on her arm.

"Come on, Em. You don't want to be late for power placement."

She sighed, letting him lead her toward the school. As they walked away, she sadly looked back over her shoulder, silently apologizing.

* * *

So, what do you think, too much talking and not enough description perhaps? Absolute drivel? Comments and suggestions are always helpful and appreciated. 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Andy, Andrew, please let go of my arm before you pull it out of its socket."

After five straight minutes of dragging Ann through the halls by her arm, Lash sighed and let go. She frowned and massaged her wrist.

"Thank you. Now would you care to explain what happened back there?"

Lash raised his eyebrows innocently.

"What where?"

Ann crossed her arms over her chest as her frown deepened.

"You promised Andrew. You promised me that you would try to be better!"

"I _did_ try. I didn't like it very much."

Ann's mouth was open in disbelief.

"I don't believe this." She whispered. "I defended you to them. I called you my _friend_."

He mimicked her, crossing his arms, and smirked. Ann shook her head.

"I should have known you would lie to me."

"Yeah? Well if you knew then you shouldn't have made me promise in the first place."

She took an abrupt step forward.

"But you didn't have to promise! You could have said, "No, I'm afraid I can't make a promise like that.' And I would have been fine! That's the problem with you, you always expect me to be fragile. But I'm not!"

They were silent, and completely oblivious to the crowd that was forming around them.

"Are you angry?" Lash finally asked.

"No." Replied Ann, shaking her head. "I'm hurt. I mean, why should I expect my best friend to act any different from anyone else in my life?"

Lash only looked at her.

"Is that the gym?" She asked, pointing toward the double door beside them, and he nodded.

"Hey! Lash, my man. Who's the babe?"

They both turned as one to see a heavyset boy coming toward them. At seeing him, Ann's eyes went wide, and she reflexively stepped behind Lash, who was grinning.

"Speed, dude, what's up? You remember Em?"

Andrew's friend and crony's eyes popped as he took another look at her.

"Whoa!" He exclaimed loudly. "I remember meeting a scrawny, but cute, kid but you're a total babe!"

"Speed, how do you do?" Ann greeted him coolly. "I thought you were in prison as well?"

Lash cleared his throat and cast a nervous glance at Ann, who raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

"Yes, well, our parents may have had something to do with us getting out on parole."

Ann shook her head, and turned to enter the gym with only a short goodbye to Lash and Speed. After knowing her for so many years, Lash knew that she wouldn't say a word to him for the next two weeks or so, after which she would go back to her normal, friendly self with him. It was like her personal failsafe against losing control over her emotions.

As she entered the gym, Ann saw that Will, Layla, and co. were all sitting in the bleachers, most likely to lend moral support to the new students.

The principal of the school began her speech/pep talk just as Ann came to a stand among the other teens. After that, Coach Boomer gave his own, slightly less up building speech, and power placement had begun.

In her old school, they had done like this. Though they had tested her to see how powerful she was. So even though she had been expecting it, Ann was shocked to see how rude Boomer was to kids who didn't live up to his expectations.

"Cromwell!"

Ann jumped at the sound of her name, and hastened to go to stand next to the Coach. Glancing at the bleachers, she saw Layla giver her a reassuring smile.

"The daughter of 'Wimpy Cromwell', eh?"

"Original." Her mind said.

"I wouldn't know sir." Her mouth said.

"Whatever. Just show us your powers."

With a shrug, she turned to face the other students and closed her eyes.

"Easiest first, Cromwell." She told herself. "Time to think happy thoughts."

Kittens, warm summer nights, and chocolate all failed to win against the stronger emotions of nervousness, fear, and sadness that she was experiencing.

"Before graduation, if you please." Coach Boomer's snide commentary did nothing to help the situation.

Finally she thought of her family, how they made her feel, and she began to sense the familiar tingling in the pads of her fingers.

Out of her pocket, she took a small piece of stem from a rose, and held it up in front of her. Gently, she beckoned the tingle to travel from her fingers into the clipping. As she slowly released her control, allowing her natural instincts to take over, new growth blossomed from the stem, turning into a single, perfect white rose.

Ann sighed with relief. Now that was over, the nervousness began to dissipate slightly.

"Plant manipulator, eh?" Commented Boomer.

"Not exactly." She replied. "If I may?"

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a bottled of water, and poured it into a small puddle in front of her.

This time, she thought of running along the beach, the wind in her hair, the sand under her feet, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore. The carefree feeling that bubbled up was a little difficult to manage at first, but she managed to center it in her palms.

Her request was different this time. To push the cool feeling from her hands into the open air, she had to speak to it in her mind.

"Please listen. This is not the time for jokes. We must be serious."

Her heart leapt as she felt the first soft rush of air around her. She reached out with imaginary hands, bringing it to the water, and turning it. Faster and faster the water spun, combining with the air around it to form a small cyclone on the gymnasium floor.

There was applause from the other students as she allowed the miniatures storm to dissipate. Ann blushed and smiled at them as she coaxed the water back into its bottle.

"An elemental. Who would have thought?" Sneered Boomer.

"I get it from my Mother's side." Ann explained.

"Obviously. Is that it?"

"Yeah."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"No, sir."

With a scowl, Coach Boomer turned to the other students.

"Would anyone care to enlighten Miss Cromwell as to the four elements?"

Ethan immediately jumped up from his seat and recited loudly.

"Earth, Water, Air, and Fire. She hasn't done fire yet."

Ann sighed. She'd been afraid of this. People just didn't seem to be able to get the hint that she was reluctant to use certain powers for good reason.

"With all due respect sir, I don't think that's a very good idea." She said patiently.

Boomer rolled his eyes.

"Do it!" His voice was loud enough to make the ground shake, and the students cringe.

Anna shrugged. She was never one to refuse an order. With one final sigh of defeat, she pulled out her lighter from her pocket. It had been a gift from her paternal grandfather. It was made of sterling silver, and was decorated with fire-breathing dragon on one side, and a phoenix on the other.

She took a deep breath, held the tiny flame over her palm, and closed her eyes. After a moment, she pulled the lighter away, but the flame remained hovering over her hand.

The feeling from her Earth powers was a tingling in her fingers, Air and Water was a coolness in her hands, and Ice was a deep chill over her entire arms. But Fire felt like a burning hot flame throughout her entire body, centering in her heart.

Ann reached for it now, silently begging. But Coach Boomer's harshness had unsettled her. That added to her original nervousness began to bring out the one emotion that fire detested. Fear.

As the tiny flame began to grow bigger, she felt it wavering, fighting her attempts to control it. By the time it was the size of a baseball, sweat had begun to drip from her forehead.

All at once, she heard a familiar deep chuckle in the back of her mind, and the fireball jumped out of her hand, suddenly exploding into the size of four basketballs put together. Ann heard Layla scream as it flew at the bleachers where the older students where sitting.

* * *

Aha! Evil cliffhanger! Expect lots of these Points upwards 

I know that adding author's notes anywhere other then the beginning and end of the story is against the rules, but I just want to break the rules this once to thank everyone for their kind reviews, and to notify any future reviewers that I intend to reply to all reviews through PM's, and if you don't want me to do so, just say so (Hey, that rhymes!). But if you don't mind, then I just want to say that I really, really love replying to my reviews!

WA

P.S. I love it when people speculate about what's going to happen in my stories so speculate away!


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ann heard Layla scream as the fireball flew at the bleachers where the older students where sitting.

Just before it hit, a pretty blonde girl with glasses jumped up and incased it with ice. The ice melted almost immediately, but the ensuing rush of water managed to extinguish the fire.

Ann stood shaking, half from fear, half from excitement. Coach opened his mouth to say 'hero', after all, the display itself was impressive, even if control was lacking.

"Please." She interrupted. "Don't."

Boomer raised his eyebrows. This was a first.

"If you please, I would rather be a sidekick." She said hastily. "We were lucky this time. If I were made a hero, I would never likely be put in a group where there was anyone powerful enough to stop me if I lost control. People would be hurt, and I couldn't live with that."

There was silence. Even Boomer seemed to be speechless, only nodding instead of his usual shouting.

Ann glanced at the bleachers, and saw the sidekicks huddled around Layla, who was cradling her arm. She went pale when she saw the burn on the other girl's arm. As tears began to sting her eyes, she turned and ran off of the platform and out of the gym before anyone could stop her.

…

After spending the next few hours hiding, Ann managed to get up the courage to venture out, mostly because her stomach was growling.

It wasn't too difficult to find the cafeteria. She had a knack for searching out and finding places with food. As she entered, she heard an overly chipper voice calling her name. Turing, she saw Layla waving a bandaged hand from her seat with her friends. Hanging her head, Anna crept over.

"Hi, Ann!" Layla chirped. "We thought you'd skipped out on us."

Ann only shook her head, so Layla tried again.

"Hey, it's okay about the fire. I only have a little burn. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

Looking up from her shoes, she saw Layla giving her a friendly smile, and Ann returned it hesitantly. Will quickly gestured for her to sit beside him, across from Magenta.

"So." Zach said, ever the tactful one. "What is the deal with you and Lash?"

Ann blushed as she pulled her lunch out of her backpack. It consisted of a fruit salad, a chocolate pudding cup, and a thermos of iced tea.

"Well, I told you we met back in the UK. Honestly I have no idea why we got along so well. I suppose our mutual affection for his sister sort of brought us together."

"If you're such good friends," Asked Mag, jerking her head at the bullies' table "Why don't you sit with him?"

"Because I'm not talking to him right now." Ann replied around a bite of honeydew.

"Don't get me wrong." She continued. "I do not in any way condone the way he has treated any of you. But in a way, I do understand it. As it is, he broke a promise to me, so I won't be speaking with him for the next couple of weeks."

She suddenly frowned in exasperation.

"I'm sorry, is it just me or is someone trying to burn holes in the back of my head through excessive staring?"

Layla laughed, looking over her shoulder.

"That's just Warren. He's probably just wondering who you are and why you're sitting with us. How did you know he was looking at you?"

"Because the back of my head is burning like the flames of Hades."

Will grinned.

"He's actually my best friend. But he doesn't think that his reputation could handle always sitting with a bunch of annoying sidekicks, especially on the first day. He'll loosen up in a couple of months."

"What about your reputation?" Asked Ann.

"Oh." Zach said. "He's the son of the Commander and Jetstream. He can do anything he bloody well wants."

Magenta rolled her eyes and cuffed her boyfriend on the back of the head, making the others laugh. All except Ann. Something seemed to be bothering her.

"Is something wrong?" Layla asked her, and Ann frowned and shook her head.

"I'm not sure. It's just…" She paused, and then continued a little more surely. "It's just that I know that name should be familiar, Warren, but I can't quite place it."

"It's not that uncommon a name." Ethan pointed out.

"I know." Ann replied, nodding. "But I know that I don't know it from England. Someone here."

"You haven't been her for what, three years?" Asked Will.

Ann nodded again absentmindedly. The rest shrugged, not knowing how to help. The troubled look on Anna's face deepened, and she shut her eyes.

There it was, a familiar burning sensation in her ears. It had started as soon as she had walked into the room. And it was coming from… Her eyes flashed open.

"He's a pyro!" She exclaimed.

"Yeah. How did you know?" Will asked.

"I can sense him the same way I do elements, specifically fire." She shook her head in disbelief. "I've only ever met one pyro before in my life, and that was when I was…" She trailed off, and her eyes fluttered shut. "What's his last name?" She asked quietly.

"Peace." Layla answered worriedly. "Warren Peace."

Ann groaned.

"It's official." She muttered. "Fate hates me."

"What?' The redhead asked, her agitation growing.

"Nothing. Never mind." Ann replied, waving a hand. The movement caught her own eye, and she glanced at her watch.

"Oh, look at the time. I have to go." She said. "I'll see all of you later."

Will waved a faint hand toward her retreating back, and gave a faint 'Later'.

"That was weird." Zach said after a pause. Magenta didn't even hit him.

…

"Mother! Dad! I'm home!" Ann called as she entered her house. When there was no response, she went to the kitchen to check the refrigerator for messages. There was one.

"Ann" It began simply. "Your father and I are taking Baby to the park. If we aren't back by the time you do, here is some money. Order a pizza of whatever you feel like. Mother."

Ann sighed. There hadn't been that many clear days recently, and she could see her stepmother jumping at the chance to get out. She made her way upstairs, and entered her 'sitting room'. There she pulled off her shoes, and went up the flight of stairs to the attic.

When she had first moved back, she had asked to be able to re-do the attic into a sort of 'Fortress of Solitude' for herself. Now, instead of old, musty boxes with mothballs, it was a room that anyone with a multiple personality disorder would be proud to call their own.

The room had been divided into four equal pieces. In the first she kept her orchids, bonsai, and enough posters of everything from bands, to actors, to animals, to completely paper the walls in that corner.

In the next were her mini-fridge, microwave, desk, computer, and stereo. The walls where painted pure white, and as everywhere else in the room the floor was hardwood.

The next corner was painted an extremely pale blue. There she had a four-poster bed with curtains of baby blue gauze. The floor was covered with a soft, fluffy white rug, and on her bedside table she kept her pictures of her friends and family. Against the other wall was her wardrobe. The top half of it was double doors, where she kept her dresses, and the bottom drawers, where she kept everything else.

The final corner was painted black, with realistic flames painted licking their way up from the ground. It was the work which she was most proud of, having put herself into it wholeheartedly, and it had come out much better then most of her other endeavors.

It was there that she kept both of her guitars, one electrical and one classical. As well as her piano, music stand, and art desk.

Sighing heavily, she threw herself onto her bed and shut her eyes.

"Well, that was interesting."

Her eyes flew open, and she bolted upright. In the middle of her room stood a young man.


	4. Chapter 3

_When I first set out to write this book, I resolved to tell everything, even the things which are considered 'secrets' among my people. Which is why I know come to what my people call Mental Elements. I know, not all that original, but bear with me._

_At around the age of six… no, I cannot tell it that way. It is best to simply say it._

_We, elementals, see the four, or in some cases five, elements in human form._

_It took decades for us to figure out what they actually are, but now we have at least some understanding of what happens. _

_Normally, the elements have no thought, no feeling, and no shape. They are simply that, fire, or water, or whatever. But the elemental is in some way able to communicate with the elements. Somehow, our minds create a sort of mental image of what they think an element would look like if it did have a human form, and then… we see it. _

_Ugh, this isn't working. I will try it another way._

_A person with schizophrenia sees things that aren't there, but to them it is completely real. They can speak to them and touch them, but no one else around them can. It's almost the same thing, except that on a certain level they are real. Through us, the elements are given thought and form. It is almost telepathic on a certain level. We can touch them, feel them, hold conversations with them, but for all intents and purposes they aren't there. Strangely enough, when the Mental Element is present, it can actually touch and manipulate the objects around it._

_Now some people may ask, if this is so, why don't we just use them (It would certainly make us a lot more powerful)? First of all, they cannot create elements either; only manipulate what is around them. _

_Second, they cannot be ordered to do anything. They are, after a fashion, their own person, and rarely if ever do what the elemental actually wants them to do. _

_Third, even though they have free will, they are not human. They are still elements and thusly have no concern for right and wrong, and no desire to care about it. There has never in history been a case of a mental who helped its elemental because of a desire to do good or bad. The chances of this happening now are none-existent. _

_Fourth, and finally, only the more mischievous mentals ever even bother to use their abilities while others are present. If no one knows who did it, as no one else can see them, why bother? They are largely selfish creatures._

_As for what their purpose is, no one really knows. But I think that it is a mixture of things. On the one hand, they don't really have a purpose at all. They are simply the elements using their connection with us to have the chance to think and feel. On the other, I believe that in a way they are meant to help us to understand ourselves. With all four elements inside of us, our emotions can get a little random and_ _being able to speak to them can do a great deal as far as helping us sort through them._

_To finish this section, I would like to thank my own mentals for their constant commentary while I was writing this. Without them, this chapter would have gone much faster._

* * *

Chapter 3

"You!" She shouted.

The young man looked to be in his late teens to early twenties, with golden blonde hair, fair skin, and ruby red eyes. He was dressed in black jeans, a black suit coat, and a crimson silk dress shirt, which was unbuttoned at the collar. The intruder was grinning cheekily at Ann.

"Where have you been?" She demanded.

"I take it you didn't like the fireworks?" He asked, still grinning.

Ann jumped off of her bed, and marched over till their noses were inches apart, scowling darkly all the while. This would have worked better if he hadn't been half a foot taller then her.

"I swear," She began to rant "Time and time again I try and I try, and for what? So that you can go and have a smegin' **fireworks display**! I know I was the one to lose control but it would have been all right if you hadn't taken control of it and made it blow up to fifty times its normal size! I have never been closer to murder then I am right now!"

"Technically," The man interrupted "I'm a figment of your imagination. So you can't actually _kill_ me."

"One, don't give me that 'figment' crap, I'm not an idiot. I know exactly what you are. Two, who ever said anything about killing you?"

His eyebrows shot up, and he paced a firm hand on each of her shoulders, and gently guided her into a sitting position on her bed.

"Now I think would be a good time for a bit of a breather." He murmured soothingly, or at least, as close as he could get to soothing.

"I can see it now. Wren." She mumbled miserably. "Element of fire as perceived by Em Cromwell. Named for psychotic Chihuahua in cartoon. Ultimate cause of said Cromwell's demise by causing insanity and frequent heart attacks."

She stood up and began pacing the room. Wren seemed to consider his options, and then came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to his chest.

"Don't worry." He murmured in her ear seriously. "You won't stay upset with me for long. Granted, I _am_ the only creature you ever get angry with _ever_, but you can never stay that way. With anyone else you'll brood and mope, but not me."

Ann sighed and turned her face to rest her cheek on his shoulder.

"You're right." She admitted. "I can't. But why, Wren, why did you have to do that? Why did you have to hurt Layla?"

Wren pursed his lips as he softly rocked her back and forth. He began tentatively.

"You of all people know that… that no matter what, we must follow our natures, our instincts. The others are almost eager to help you get better as long as you are happy. But as for me… well… you know what I respond to. But as I said, you don't get angry that often."

Ann nodded softly, the anger past.

"Now about that other matter…"

"Oh, Wren." Ann groaned. "Could we not talk about this right now?"

"Someone needs a nap." Wren said, playfully pouting.

Ann rolled her eyes, making Wren grin even wider.

"C'mon, I'll tuck you in."

…

_That night I dreamt._

_In my dream all was dark around me. I could not see anything, but for some reason I walked forward. When I tried to stray to one side or the other, an unseen force pushed me back till finally I felt no desire to move off of my invisible path at all. So forward I walked, in one long, straight line._

_After what seemed like hours to me, I saw a glimmer in the corner of my left eye. When I turned my head to look, I saw a person, a man. But his body and face were clouded in shadow. This time, when I stepped toward him, no ghostly hands pushed me back._

_So I walked toward him, and though he looked to be far away, it took only a few steps to get to him. I stopped and stood when I was just a few feet away. Now I could see that his eyes where closed, and I stretched out my hand, I don't know why, to touch him. But as soon as my finger grazed his cheek, his eyes opened._

_I took an involuntary step back, for though all the rest of him was still clouded in darkness, I could now see that this eyes where like two glowing rubies. And as I stood transfixed by them, I saw that deep inside them, a fire burned. The only other things I saw of him but those eyes was a faint, silvery outline of his body, which was powerfully built, and far taller then my own, and hair. Long, dark locks just brushed his shoulders, and framed his face, only serving to add to the mysteriousness of his persona._

_When I saw those eyes, my mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Finally I managed to shout out,_

"_Who, what are you? Why did you lead me from my former path? It might have been dull, yes, but at least it did not hold such fear!"_

_But he did not speak. He only stared, drawing me deeper into his gaze, until suddenly I could feel myself falling._

_And then I woke up._

…

Ann shot up in bed, her eyes wide, and her breath coming in pants. Looking to her side, she saw that Wren was sitting upright on the other side of the bed, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Ugh." She said. "Talk about a nightmare." And wiped the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her hand.

"What was it about?" Asked Wren, always eager to pry into her id.

"Nothing." She retorted, glaring at him. With a grin, he squeezed his eyes shut, taking advantage of the vaguely telepathic connection they shared. With a chuckle, his eyes popped open again.

"Warren Peace? You had a dream about Warren Peace?" He asked in a mock-disbelieving voice. Anna scowl darkened.

"I don't know what it was about. Probably just my subconscious mind putting him and you together." She retorted as she got out of bed.

"Ow." Was all he replied.

…

The next day at school wasn't all that bad. She met her new teacher, Mr. Boy, and got to know the school better. Thankfully, the school had decided to give the sidekicks a better classroom, as in, a room not in the basement. And they actually shared many classes with the heroes now. Ann was puzzled to notice that none of her new friends were in any of her classes.

"Mr. Boy?" She asked as she was leaving for lunch. "Do you know where Layla and Will are?"

"Oh yes." He replied with a smile. "They and their friends are going with Will's parents on a sort of field trip. Approved by Principal Powers of coarse. Did I tell you that I used to be The Commander's support?"

Ann could practically hear the capitals in his voice. She managed to bow out politely before he began one of his tangents about how he had worked with Steven Stronghold… yadda yadda yah. Not that she didn't like it when people went on tangents, especially someone with as many interesting and exciting stories as Mr. Boy. It was just that she really needed to eat.

Entering the cafeteria, she saw to her horror that all of the other tables were completely filled up, all except for two, the one that Lash was sitting at, and Warren Peace's.

"_Ah, the moment of truth."_ Said a snide voice in her head.

"Not helping, Wren." She muttered, her eyes flashing between the two.

Choice A: Sit with her best friend, who would be more then happy to give her a seat, and speaking to him before the two week hiatus was up, thus completely destroying her reputation as a brooder and complete icicle when upset.

Choice B: Ask the resident pyrokinetic, bad boy, who to be perfectly honest scared her to death, if he would be so kind as to let the little, awkward British-sounding girl sit at his table.

Taking a deep breath, she took one step, and then another forward. Until the last moment, even she didn't know which way she was going to go, straight ahead, or to the left. At the last moment she swerved, planting her directly beside the most feared boy… man… guy in all of Sky High.

She cleared her throat tentatively, hoping that he wouldn't incinerate her before she had a chance to apologize for bothering him.

Warren looked up from his book to see the girl who had been sitting with Will and his friends the day before. He glared at her, but raised a questioning eyebrow, signaling her to speak her piece and then be gone.

"Excuse me, could I sit here?" Her voice just barely managed to not squeak as she pointed to the seat in front of him. He stared at her for several seconds, as if he didn't believe what she was asking.

"Why?" He finally asked, his voice so low and quiet that Ann could almost feel her bones vibrate.

"Because there's not really anywhere else to sit?" She said it almost as a question, as if to ask him if it was an acceptable answer. There was another pause as he studied her through the veil of dark hair that fell over his face.

"You're a friend of Layla's?" He finally asked. And she paused, unsure at first.

"I hope so." She finally answered quietly.

Warren thought about his for another moment, and then gave a resigned gesture toward the seat in front of him. With an audible sigh, Ann slid into the seat, and began to unpack her lunch. Warren couldn't help but notice that her lunch was approximately twice the size it was yesterday, including a ham sandwich, the fruit salad, approximately a dozen Chip's Ahoys, and her thermos.

Silence reigned for a good five minutes, with Warren reading his book in between bites of PB & J, and Anna eating surprisingly elegantly for the rate of which she was consuming. Finally, her dislike for even somewhat awkward silences overrode her good sense.

"May I ask what you're reading?" She asked. Warren just held up the book for a second so that she could read the cover.

"The Princess Bride." She read matter-of-factly, and then proceeded to stare at the book in wonder.

"What?" He finally asked sharply, startling her out of her reverie.

"Nothing!" She exclaimed quickly, and then backtracked. "It's just that it's so… so… happy." She finished lamely.

"So?" He asked. Ann could tell that he was quickly losing patience with her.

"I just had you pegged for more of the Poe, or Anne Rice. Y'know, being the brooding bad boy and all."

Warren stared at her like she'd grown a second _and_ third head.

"_Smooth move."_ She heard Wren chortle.

But surprisingly, Warren didn't roast her on the spot. Instead he looked up completely so that he was no longer hunched over, and pushed his book to the side. Ann wasn't sure whether this was a good or a bad sign.

"So, what does this," He waved a hand at his book, "Tell you about me?"

"That you're not a stereotype." Her witty mouth said before her logical brain thought.

For a moment, Ann almost thought she saw a twinkle in his eye, which brought her attention to them. She was surprised by the color, a lovely, warm brown. Like hot chocolate.

"What?" Warren asked again, making Ann blush.

"Oh… um…" She stammered, trying to cover her embarrassment, and failing miserably. "I was just noticing your eyes are… um… brown."

"I know." He replied flatly, making the faint tinge in her cheeks go to a dark pink.

"_Uh oh."_ She heard Wren say, sounding genuinely worried for the first time in her life.

"I just didn't expect them to be that… particular… color."

"_Um, Em luv?"_

"Oh? And what did you expect?" He was enjoying this way too much.

"_No! Stop, drop, and roll, Em! Stop, drop, and roll!"_

"Oh, I don't know… maybe… red." She finished quietly.

"_AAAAH! Bail! Bail!"_

Warren's face darkened. Why hadn't she shut up? She didn't even know why she hadn't shut up when she had the chance, but something about his voice made her answer him.

"Now why would you think that?" He asked her tensely, his voice now impossibly low.

Ann ducked her head.

"Eh… well…" The light bulb in her head finally managed to turn on. "I've heard that some pyros have red eyes."

"That's my girl! Good save!"

Warren frowned, not sure if he believed her. So he only gave a grunt and went back to his book. Ann nearly fainted from relief for the second time that day, and thanked whatever God existed that the bell rang just then.

As she left, Warren looked up and watched her as she left, and wondered how many people would have known about his father's eyes.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A young girl, perhaps no more then four years old, sat on the floor of an extremely pink bedroom. She looked up when the door opened, her blue-gray eyes wide, and her light brown-blonde hair falling over her face.

A young boy entered. Actually, his head entered, and he looked around, and nodded when he saw her.

"Oh, hello." He said. "Do you know where Willow is?"

"Bathroom." She replied quietly, and she was obviously shy at seeing him.

Apparently realizing this, he stepped inside and walked over to her and smiling, held out his hand.

"I'm Andrew. You must be Willow's new friend. What's your name?"

"Em." The girl replied, holding out her hand to shake his. "You're Willow's brother?"

Andrew smiled and puffed his chest out.

"I'm her older brother." He corrected her. "I'm seven."

"Oh." She said, nodding. And looked back down at the doll that she had been dressing.

Em didn't understand why she felt so shy. Granted, she was normally that way, but usually not with people who were nice to her. Glancing up briefly, she was surprised to see that he had sat down next to her, and was currently playing with the GI Joe that his sister had kidnapped from him long ago, and hadn't gotten around to returning. She took the opportunity to look him over.

While Willow looked quite a bit like her, with light brown hair and large green eyes, her brother was quite different. He had dark brown hair that fell over his dark brown eyes. When she thought about it, she supposed that he was quite handsome for a boy of his years. Could that be the reason she felt shy around him?

Just then, Willow returned and saw her brother and new friend and grinned.

"Hey Andy. What are you doing with my friend?" She teased.

He looked up and smiled back.

"Nothing'."

Still grinning, Willow came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, attempting to drag the much larger boy out of the room.

"She's my friend! You can't have her! You go play with that new friend of yours with the stupid name."

"Speed!" Andy protested. "His name is Speed, and it is not stupid! Now let me go you crazy girl!"

Willow let go and fell laughing to the floor beside him.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters, Em?" She asked.

"No." The other girl replied, shaking her head. "I wish I did, but I don't think I ever will."

"Well," Said Andy, trying to be helpful. "Willy is three years younger then me, and you're what, about that age?"

"I'm almost five."

"There you have it. You may have a new brother yet!"

"Why a brother? Why not a sister?" Asked Willow, glaring.

"Of course, a sister is possible."

"I don't think so."

The two siblings looked up at Em, who was now looking down sadly.

"Why not?" Willow asked.

"Because my Mommy doesn't like my Daddy."

Andy gave Willow a wide-eyed look. Who ever heard of a mother who didn't like the daddy?

"Are you sure?" Andy asked tentatively, and Em nodded sadly.

"She likes someone else."

The Bakers looked at each other again, and wordlessly decided that now would be a good time to drop the discussion.

…

Willow and Ann had always been best friends after that, and even though Andy was used to being the center of his sister's attention, he felt no jealousy towards the girl, mostly because he had his own best friend now, but also because there never was jealousy between the two siblings. Andy worshipped his little sister, no one ever knew why, but it just seemed to be in his nature to protect the little child. Willow adored her older brother. He was everything that she wanted to be. Strong, smart, and when his powers activated when he was eleven, she decided that that was exactly what she wanted to be. Fate had other ideas.

Ann had begun exhibiting signs of being an elemental the year after they had met, and even though their family had only just moved there, Ann and Willow's parents knew the others secret identities, and so whenever Ann learned something new, she would show it to her friends. When they were ten, Willow started to realize her own powers, and they were impressive. She learned that if she concentrated hard enough, she could hear other people's thoughts, sometimes she could even sense their feelings. At first it was difficult, her having to concentrate so hard that sometimes she came out of it with a raging headache. But soon it became more and more easy, until finally she would hear people's thoughts no matter what. Her mind became a jumble of thoughts and feelings that weren't her own.

It was around the same time that Ann began to try and experiment more with her own abilities. One day, she was at school, and she tried to freeze the swimming pool on a dare from Andy. She ended up freezing every drop of moisture in the room.

It was then that both families decided that it was time to send the two girls to the school in England. The two were overjoyed to learn that they were going to go in this adventure together. Ann always remembered the last time she saw Andy before she left. He was standing on the runway where her fathers helicopter was kept. As they lifted off, he lifted a hand and waved to them, and they both waved back.

That was the last time that Andy ever saw his sister alive.

When they were having their powers tested, one girl came up visibly swaggering. Ann knew immediately that this was a bad thing. Her own pride had led her to taking that dare which she now realized she had always known was too much for her. When the girl raised her hands, her body lit up like a beacon. Smirking, she focused that light into a beam that shot across the room and punched a hole through a metal wall that had been set up for this purpose. That was when everything went horribly wrong. Suddenly, hundreds of lasers began shooting everywhere. Anyone who had any ability to do so tried to protect the girls around them, but Ann could only stand helplessly as a laser shot out, and went right through Willow. She was dead before she hit the ground.

Ann didn't go home for the funeral, but Andy came there. The day after his sister was buried, he took the first available flight to England. When they first saw each other, all they could do is stare at each other. For hours all they could do was sit in her room and watch the flames in her fireplace. Finally, Andy slammed his fist down on a table and shouted,

"I hate them!"

Ann looked up in surprise.

"Who Andy?" She asked.

"These kids who think they're so great! The new kids who think they can do anything."

Ann looked back to the fire, her arms crossed over her stomach, her eyes mournful.

"I should have done something." She whispered.

"You couldn't have done anything. Anything you would have done would have just gotten you…"

Andy stared at her, the horrible truth suddenly dawning on him.

"God Em. She's gone. And you could be dead now too."

"I should be." She said hoarsely.

Andy scowled and marched over to her and grabbed her shoulders. He forced her too look at him.

"Don't ever say that! It's not your fault she's dead." His anger faded, and he looked at her almost tenderly. "If I lost you too, I don't know what I would do."

The girl raised her chin, pulling all of her remaining bits of strength together, and a fair bit of Andrew's.

"I know I couldn't do anything then, but there is something we could do now."

The next morning, they found the light-controlling girl with both of her arms and legs broken, in her room, which had been locked from the inside. Ann and Andy never talked about it again.

It was that same year that she first really got to know Speed. Throughout her friendship with Willow, Speed had always been there, but she had avoided him as much as possible. Something about the cocky boy scared the bashful girl right out of her socks. Once she had gotten older and had grown out of her fear, she had been so used to avoiding him that she hadn't really seen any reason to break the habit.

On one of Lash's many visits to her school, he had brought his best friend with him. When he had seen her, Speed had grinned.

"So, you're the girl that Lash is always flying halfway around the world to see. You're a scrawny one aren't you?"

Lash, as he was called now by the terrified, over-confident freshmen, glared at his friend and elbowed him. But Speed was having too much fun.

"You are cute though. I guess I can understand the fixation well enough, with the Big-Bambi-Eyes and all. I suppose with that said, I will give you my blessing whole-heartedly whenever you decide to get married."

Ann's eyes went even wider then usual, and she blushed profusely.

"Um… well… you see… we're not…" She stammered, making Speed grin even wider.

"Oh, you mean you're not going out? In that case, Lash," He turned to his friend, "May I have you're permission to…" But Lash cut him off.

"No." He said bluntly, and prepared to murder his best friend for embarrassing his timid friend so badly that she probably wouldn't even look at another guy for the rest of her life.

Speed shrugged, finally noticing how uncomfortable they both were.

"Hey, sorry. I'm Speed by the way." He held out his hand for her to shake, and she pulled herself together long enough to give him a brief clasp and to say, "Ann."

"Raggedy Ann and Andy!" He exclaimed, quite pleased with his own wit.

"Which is why you will never, ever tell anyone my real name at school." Lash said, now pulling Speed away from Ann, and back toward the helicopter.

"Oh! Looks like I'll be heading back early. Goodbye, Ann! I'll miss youuuuuu!"

…

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Ann's fist shot out from under the covers and slammed her fist down on her alarm clock, effectively silencing it, but she hit it a few more times for good measure. With a sigh she dragged herself out of bed and stumbled downstairs to her bathroom, which was connected to her sitting room.

Quick shower – Ten minutes

Getting dressed – Five minutes

Actually waking up and realizing who was going to be at your school when you got there – A half an hour, followed by another half hour of curling up in the corner of your bedroom in the fetal position.

She sighed. She knew she had to go eventually, but she really wanted to put it off for as long as possible. Her parents had already left for a doctor appointment, so they couldn't really tell to get her but in gear. Under any other circumstances she would have told herself the same thing, but every time she thought of Warren, and what he must have thought, what he still must be thinking, she got a knot in her stomach.

There was a soft tapping above her head, and she looked up to see another tall young man standing over her, looking down with barely veiled boredom. His skin was pale, almost white, and his hair was a blue-tinted-white. His eyes were pale blue, and he wore blue jeans and a white t-shirt.

"Hello, kitten." He said.

"Oh, hi Sven." She replied sheepishly, and he rolled his eyes at the nickname.

"I know that it's your right to name all of us, but I really wish you wouldn't call me that."

"What would you rather I call you? Poseidon?"

"I would rather you call me Water, or even Ice if it meant no longer having to be called," He grimaced, "Sven." He squared his shoulders. "But that isn't why I'm here now is it? Aren't you supposed to be somewhere, Missy?"

"I really, really don't want to go there today." She said, giving him her best woe-is-me look. Sven was unmoved. They probably all sent him there because he was the only one who was never moved by her big gray-blue eyes.

"Now kitten." He scolded fondly. "How are you going to get any better if you keep being ruled by your fear?"

Ann hung her head sheepishly.

"No, sir. I guess I'll go."

"Good girl." He said, patting her on the head. "Off you go."

…

"Will Ann Cromwell please report to Principal Powers?"

Ann looked up at the intercom and frowned. What could she have done? She hadn't frozen any swimming pools, or tied any bathroom doors shut with grape vines. When she got there, she knocked once and entered when she heard the principal's voice.

"Ma'am?" She asked as she entered.

"Ah, hello Ann. Please, have a seat." Powers waved a hand at the chairs in front of her, and Ann sat down, now more apprehensive then before.

"I wanted to have the chance to talk to you personally."

"Isn't there some law where I have to have a guardian present?" Ann asked innocently, and Powers laughed.

"Oh no. This isn't an interrogation. I just wanted to go over some things with you. Is that alright?"

Ann nodded, so the older woman continued.

"Now, your previous school sent over your records, and I must say they are very impressive. Aside from the occasional prank, you were an exemplary student."

Ann smiled, relieved. But that smile quickly faded at what she said next.

"These records also include your grades over the four years that you were there."

"Ah." Ann said, suddenly realizing what the principal really wanted to talk to her about.

"I have to say, first of all, that your grades in Art, Drama, and History are exemplary, all A's. But then I noticed that while everything else was quite acceptable, your grades in Science and Math are… well… quite appalling. I see that your average in both of these classes is a C-."

"I see." Ann cleared her throat nervously. "Well, I do realize that I have to work on that. But I really have improved since I first stared school. I was even worse then."

"I know that. But you must admit that while progress is evident, it has been slow." She held up a hand to keep her from saying anything. "Which is why I have decided to assign you tutors to help you in these subjects. For science, our best available student is…"

"Oh! Let me guess!" Ann said, a profound sense of foreboding coming over her. "Speed." Powers raised her eyebrows.

"How did you know?"

"Let's just say we are aware of each others existence. He was always the best person I've ever known when it came to science."

"Aha. For math, I felt that there was one person who is not only does extremely well in that class but might also be able to help you with your… other problem."

Ann's face fell, and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. It couldn't be.

"Warren Peace is a pyrokinetic, some of the teachers seem to think that if you spend some time with someone who can control fire, it might be able to help you with your own control." There she stopped, and seemed to wait expectantly for an answer. Ann took a deep breath.

"Principal Powers, do you believe in fate?"

"I… I don't know." She replied, taken aback.

"I do. I also believe that it is out to get me." She held up a hand when Powers started to talk. "No, don't say anything. I learned long ago to look for the good in every situation. I may not see any right now, but I'm sure there is one. God would not be so cruel. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go pass out in the hallway."

With that, she got up, walked out, and managed to make it outside and under a tree before slumping to the ground.

When she had finally gotten herself together, she got up and went to search out Speed. She found him at his locker with Lash, who looked up when he saw her and his eyes lit up.

"Hey!"

Speed turned around, and smirked when he saw her.

"Hello, grasshopper."

"I guess Principal Powers filled you in on the situation." Ann said, and Speed nodded.

"Indeed, grasshopper. My place or yours?"

Ann couldn't possibly miss the innuendo in his voice, and she chose to ignore it.

"I guess I'll come over to your place tomorrow. How's that?"

"Excellent. Four o'clock?"

Ann nodded.

"I'll be there." With that she scurried away as fast as she could without looking like she was running. She had never quite gotten over what he had said to her all those years ago when she had been eleven. It had embarrassed her beyond belief to think, first, that anyone would think that she and Lash were a couple, and second, that anyone would find her attractive enough to want to go out with. The years had apparently not dampened that sentiment in him, and Ann could only hope that he would stick to the agenda when it came to tutoring her.

Despite her worries about Speed, it was nothing compared to her worries about her other tutor. She went through her classes numbly, not really wanting them to end, but they did, one after the other, until she heard the dreaded lunch bell ring.

Entering the cafeteria, she saw that Will and co. were still gone, and that again, Warren's was the only available table. It was no less difficult this time to walk over to him then the other. Before it had been much simpler, they didn't even know each other except for their relative connections with Will and Layla. But now, they not only had the tutorship between them, but also her slip-up about his, or more specifically, his father's eyes.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Hello, me again." Ann said, in her best, cheery-Brit voice. Warren rolled his eyes up, looking at her through his dark curtain of hair.

"There goes the multiple head look again." She thought.

"It turns out we have one little thing we have to talk about."

Warren kept staring at her, making her distinctly uncomfortable.

"One?" He asked, obviously hinting at their earlier conversation. Ann lowered her eyelids and gazed down at him.

"Yes, one." She replied firmly, allowing no room for argument. She might be totally freaked out by him, but she knew how to stand her ground when she wanted to.

Warren looked back down at his book, and since he hadn't nuked her, or dismissed her, she imagined that it was relatively safe to sit down.

"So, I assume Principal Powers has spoken with you?" Asked Ann, and Warren grunted.

"Well, I'm not sure how you would be comfortable doing this, but I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind you coming over."

He looked up at her when she said this, evidently surprised that she would suggest such a thing.

"Don't worry." She said, vaguely sarcastically, "We don't have a swimming pool."

This made Warren smirk, and finally look up completely.

"Fine. But the only time that I'll be free for the next week is tonight."

Undeterred, Ann pressed on.

"Well then. I'll tell my mother to cook extra. I imagine you eat like a teenage boy as well?"

Ann heard a faint, drawn out 'Oh' in her brain, and softly scolded Wren. Warren, on the other hand, went a little pale, but he remembered just what Layla would do to him if he hurt Ann, so he struggled to control himself.

"Would five work for you?" He asked between clenched teeth.

"Absolutely perfect. If I may ask, where do you live? I imagine I could give you directions easily enough."

The pyro pulled out a sheet of paper and scribbled his address on it, then slid it over to her. One look at the paper and Ann blanched.

"Um… well… I'm not sure what to say."

"What?" Warren snapped.

"I'm sorry to say this, but it appears that for the past seven months, we've been neighbors."

His head shot up from his book.

"Next door neighbors as a matter of fact."

"Wait." Warren said. "You mean the old house to our left with the turret…?"

"Is the current residence of Ann Cromwell. Honestly I'm wondering how we managed to live so close and never know it."

"I don't spend a lot of time there during the day." Warren said, and shrugged.

"And I spend all of my time there, but usually not outside. But…" She frowned.

"_Why didn't Father say anything? He must have not known… or did he? No, it's not possible. Father!"_

Ann's felt her mouth opening and closing as she gasped for breath. Finally she stood up.

"I'll be right back. I have to go kill someone."

Warren raised his eyebrows and gave a light, 'Hokay' as she retreated. She ran to an abandoned schoolroom and pulled out her cell phone, quickly calling her father's work number.

"Hey, Emmy." Damn caller-id.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, unlike some I can't read your mind." He joked.

"They're living right next to us, Father."

There was silence on the other end. He definitely knew what she was talking about.

"It's a long story, Em. How about we talk about this when we get home." Ann sighed.

"Okay. Oh, by the way. If you talk to Mum, tell her that someone from my school will be coming over to help me with my math."

When she got back, Warren only gave the slightest acknowledgment that she was there, and went back to his book. Smiling, she leaned over slightly and looked at what he was reading.

"The Raven? Ouch." She said.

"Don't flatter yourself." He grumbled, not particularly interested in her opinion on his reading material.

"So, tonight at five?"

"I'll be there." He said absently.

It was a start. Ann had always hated being on bad terms with anyone, and she especially disliked the direction that her relationship with Warren had started out going. He was the first pyro she had met since she was three years old, and she wanted desperately to get to know him better.

…

With his mother's blessing, though for some reason he found himself avoiding telling her the name of the family he was visiting, Warren started out for Ann's. Approximately thirty seconds and one hopped fence later he knocked on her door. There was a slight scrambling sound inside, and the door flew open quite quickly, revealing Ann dressed in a button-down shirt, which was un-tucked from her jeans, her hair tied up in a messy bun, and a baby on her hip.

At the sight of this, Warren felt a familiar uncomfortable feeling settling around him. It wasn't like he didn't see a lot of kids. He saw his fair share of families at the Paper Lantern, and he knew how to act around them well enough, he had just never been particularly comfortable around them, they all seemed so… fragile.

Ann beamed at him.

"Hey, you're a bit early. Sorry for how I look, Baby is a little obsessed with hair." She chuckled as she ushered him inside.

"Could you do me a favor, please? Could you just hold her for a second while I get cleaned up?"

"Um, I…" He tried to think of an excuse.

"Oh, don't worry. She doesn't mind strangers holding her. She's a regular social butterfly as a matter of fact. Here, Ariel, this is Warren. Warren, this is Ariel. There now you aren't strangers anymore!"

With that, she held the infant out to him, and he instinctively reached out to hold her.

"Living rooms over there. Feel free to make yourself comfortable. Be back in a jiff!" She said as she ran upstairs.

Warren realized that he was going to be stuck with this baby for the next few minutes, so he carefully made his way into the room that Ann had pointed out, and sat down on a couch after depositing his backpack on a table.

The child in his arms looked up at him curiously. At his estimation, she was maybe eight months old, but even at that age she had a soft head of curly, brown-blonde hair, the exact shade as Ann's. Her eyes were still mostly the same blue that all babies had at birth, but they looked like they might be more of a green color when she got older. She was dressed in a pale purple, terrycloth onesy, with matching booties. All around, he supposed that she was fairly cute… for a baby.

"Wa-we."

Warren started when Ariel pulled her thumb out of her mouth, and very clearly said… something.

"Excuse me?" He said reflexively.

"Wa-we." She repeated, quite pleased at her own success. He suddenly realized that she was trying to say Warren.

"Um, yeah, that's my name. Warren."

"Wa-we!" She shouted, now hysterically happy.

Her eyes suddenly locked on something… right next to his head. With a cry of glee she grabbed one of his red locks of hair. He winced, but surprisingly she didn't tug on it, only gave one of those adorable baby-frowns and studied it.

"Yes, that's my hair." He said, knowing he sounded slightly sarcastic. Ariel chuckled and began to study the zipper on his jacket. With an extremely serious look, she picked up one side, and then the other, and began to try and figure out how they were supposed to go together, all the while muttering to herself in baby talk.

Warren couldn't help but smile a little. She was certainly clever, not like some babies he'd seen, who didn't seem to notice a single thing around them. He found himself lightly touching the impossibly soft curls on her head.

"Sorry about that. I had to give Ariel her bath and she has this weird fixation with water and it took longer then I thought and…" Ann trailed off when she saw Warren and her sister. "But I guess you are getting along just fine."

He immediately wiped the smile off of his face when he heard her, but he still gently sat Ariel on the couch as he got up.

"So, where should we start?" He asked gruffly. Ann decided that he probably wouldn't be the best person to tease about being soft.

"Well let's see. How about supper? Father should be home any time now, and I don't know about you but I'm starving. Come on, we can go bother Mum." She said, gesturing for him to follow her.

They found Brook Cromwell in the kitchen, happily surrounded with pots and pans. She looked up when they entered. They were both certainly surprised to see each other, but they both managed to cover it up extremely well.

Brook saw a young man, seventeen years old, wearing worn, black jeans, a dark green t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. Not only that but he was also 6'2", towering over six inches over her stepdaughter… and hot. She gave Ann a look that was unmistakable in the world of females, and Ann gave her a 'Don't go there' look.

Perhaps what Warren saw was even more surprising. A tall, slim woman, perhaps a couple inches taller than Ann, with dark auburn hair piled on her head and kept back with a simple clip. Her eyes were the brilliant green hinted at in her own daughter, and she looked to be in her mid-twenties.

"This is my wicked stepmother. Wicked stepmother, this is Warren."

Brook waved a spoon at her and glared at Ann, but there was a twinkle in her eyes.

"Watch yourself, missy, or you'll be on baby-bathing duty for a _month_." Ann laughed and mock-whispered over her shoulder to Warren.

"Told you she was wicked. So, what are you making?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I'll tell you now." Brook turned her attention to Warren. "I hear you're going to be helping Em with her math."

Warren nodded in response, just as he heard the front door open. Ann smiled for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

"Come on. I'll introduce you to my Father." As soon as he entered the hallway, Ann ran to say hello to her father.

"Hello, Em." He said, smiling at her, his smile fell slightly when he saw Warren. "Is this your friend?"

"Warren, this is my father. Father, etcetera, etcetera."

Peter Cromwell shook hands with the younger man. Ann's dad was another surprise. His features not so much, he was rather handsome, with Ann's hair and eye color, but he looked like he couldn't possibly be over thirty-five. Warren hadn't expected the man who had helped keep thousands of the small businesses in Maxville Metropolis afloat, would be so young.

"How do you do?" Peter asked politely, while he looked him up and down. Assessing the threat to his daughter maybe?

It was at this point that Ann began to unfold her plan to… well… there wasn't really any reason for it. She just liked to see her father squirm every once in awhile.

"It turns out that Warren here lives right next door to us." Peter's face registered surprise for only a second, and then he smiled.

"Oh, that Warren. Of course, I haven't spoken to your mother for such a long time. You've grown quite a bit since I last saw you."

Warren began to get the distinct impression that he was being placed in the middle of a family dispute, and he hastened to pull himself out of the crossfire… NOT.

"Really? I don't remember meeting you."

"Oh, you were quite a bit younger, and it was only briefly."

"Supper's ready!" Brook, ever ready to keep the peace, announced just in time.

Supper was quite pleasant. Brook was an excellent cook, and she had made a wonderful chicken and biscuits in gravy, which as Ann said, was the "Ultimate comfort food." They had managed to keep the conversation away from any uncomfortable topics, mostly because Brook had her feet poised next to Ann and Peter's shins.

While the two adults cleared the table, Ann and Warren got to work.

"Let's see. We could start with some of my older tests, go through what I got wrong and try and figure out what I've been doing."

Warren nodded. They got through the next hour as quietly as possible, talking only when needed and actually getting quite a bit done.

"Can I ask you something?" Warren finally asked. Ann looked up.

"You can ask."

"What is with your family and mine?"

"What do you mean?" Ann said, doing a poor job of covering her own knowledge on the matter.

"You know what I mean. I just found out that I've been living next door to one of the most powerful men in Maxville for years, and I didn't know it."

Ann leaned back on the couch they were sitting on and sighed.

"I honestly have no idea how that particular… thing happened. But there really isn't that much about us that is connected."

Warren scowled, but decided not to press the issue. It went against his instincts to not grill her until she told him all she knew, but at that point he was tired, he had a headache, and he had to go home anyway. They said goodbye with the least amount of word necessary, and Ann went to talk with her father.

"So, you were going to explain something to me?"

Ann leaned in the doorway of her father's study. Peter looked up from his computer and sighed.

"Alright, have a seat." Ann sat.

"He's an… interesting boy, Warren." Peter said, and Ann shrugged.

"I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like him."

"Not even that Wren of yours?" Her father teased, smiling softly.

"First, Wren is not mine. Second, no, they are much more different then I thought. And third, don't change the subject. How did you do it anyway? How did you keep us both ignorant for so long?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised it's lasted this long. Of course, they moved in after you left."

"Dad, he's the son of…"

"Don't say his name!" Peter said sharply. Ann jumped, realizing she had gone a bit far this time.

"Now, several years ago I learned that his mother needed a safe place to live. I offered to sell her that house. We both agreed that the conditions would be that we would never have any contact with each other, and that we would make sure that you and Warren never met."

"But why?" Ann asked. "Why… why so many things? Why let them move in next to us. Why go through so much to keep us apart?"

"Beatrice, Warren's mother, and I decided that our history made it a not-so-good idea for us to have much to do with each other. But I still wanted to do something for them."

"None of this makes any sense." Ann cried, slumping in her chair. "A year ago, the most I had to think about was not flunking out of school."

Peter stood up, and crouched down to embrace his elder daughter.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. But at the time we thought it was the best thing for everyone. People were trying to come after Beatrice and Warren, and I thought that I would be able to give them some measure of protection if they were close by. It never occurred to us that the two of you would meet like this. It must have been a horrible shock."

"Tell me about it. But Dad," She looked up at him, and stared him straight in the eyes. "I'm willing to accept that you meant well in keeping this from me, but don't pretend that you let them buy that house out of any liking for them. This is one of those keeping enemies closer things, isn't it?"

"I never could lie to you could I?" Said Peter ruefully. "I admit, it's felt good to know where they are. Beatrice is a kind woman, and an excellent hero, but Warren…"

"…Is his father's son." Ann finished, and paused before saying. "I guess that some of the blame for not realizing things sooner is on me for being so dense."

Peter laughed.

"Something gives me the feeling that the denseness wasn't all your fault."

…

In her room, Ann chewed Wren out for a good hour about keeping important things from her, and especially screwing with her mind for his own purposes.

"And what I can't get, is why would you want to do that anyway? What was in it for you?"

"Except for the absolutely priceless look on your face when you realized who he was?"

"That's not enough for you." Ann said, the wheels turning in her brain. "Even you wouldn't go to such extents for a joke. There must be something else."

She thought for a moment, and then her eyes lit up, and she looked at Wren slyly.

"This doesn't have something to do with him being a pyro, does it?"

Wren's face became deadly serious, and he gave her a look that made a shiver run up her spine.

"It wasn't just me. It was all of us. We all felt that it would be bad if he ever came into your life."

"How so?" Ann asked, her curiosity overriding her wounded feelings.

"Don't play dumb with me. It's already begun."

"Straying from the straight and narrow?" She asked sarcastically.

"You could say that. And who's to say what will be at the end of this? An angel or a demon?"

* * *

Okay, I know I wasn't going to do this anymore, but I just have to mention that if you think that this chapter sucks comparatively speaking, I'm not completely happy with it myself. But if you do like it… well… good! If it's a bit confusing, I promise that it will all make sense soon enough. And if anything is particularly confusing, just tell me in a review, or PM me, and I'll try to explain.

WA


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The next day, Warren decided to kill two birds with one stone, namely going to school with Ann, which could possibly lead to her revealing more about this great secret of hers and… no, that was it.

As soon, as he knocked, the door flew open, revealing a disgruntled looking Ann. Her hair was loose for the first time he could remember, and it fell straight down to her waist, she was wearing neon pink pajama bottoms, and a baby pink tank top. Seeing who it was, she glared at him.

"Yes?" She asked between clenched teeth, and Warren had to struggle to not take a step back from the obviously annoyed girl.

"I thought…"

"I'm not going."

Warren's eyebrows shot up.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not going to school today."

"Are you sick?" He asked, trying his best to sound at least mildly concerned, instead of very.

"You might say that." She snarled quietly. "What you would call a life-long affliction."

"Oh." He thought for a moment. "Is there anything…"

"No, nothing at all. Oh wait, you can go _away_." She scowled. "In the meantime, I am going to get off of this freezing porch, go back into my nice, cozy house, curl up with a bottle of ibuprofen, a carton of Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream, the kind with the really big chunks in it, a few good tear-jerking chick-flicks, and permanently attach myself to a heating pad. Does that clarify things for you?"

Somehow, this particular setup sounded very familiar to Warren, until he realized what she was referring to.

"Hokay," He said. "Not exactly something I needed to know."

"Guys, such squeamish creatures when it all comes down to it." She smirked, and promptly slammed the door in his face.

…

By the evening Ann was hyped up on enough painkillers to consider going to Speed's, and the death glare that her mother gave her when she suggested calling him up and rescheduling sealed it. At three-thirty sharp she set out for Speed's house. It wasn't too far away, and the exercise did her good. By the time she got there, her mood had improved greatly.

His father opened the door, and Ann cringed mentally. She had met Ivan Brice once before, and had taken a disliking to him. Now, when she told him who she was, he looked her over as if assessing her worthiness. She imagined that the way she was feeling right now was similar to the way Warren had felt when he had first met her father, only her father had been looking out for her well-being, Speed's father seemed to be assessing her… assets.

"Speed is in his room. Follow me." He finally said.

As they walked through the hallways, Ann noticed that while their house was certainly a bit smaller then her own, it was no less expensively furnished. But she wasn't really surprised at that, Ivan was a super known for his divided loyalties, and for earning money in ways that were probably less then honest. When his son and only child had been born, he had named him Speed, expecting him to inherit his own abilities, and he had. He had also been born with his mother's keen ability with science.

"Here you are. Have fun." Ann disliked his tone, but decided to let it go, and instead knocked on the door.

"Yeah, come in." Said a familiar voice from inside. Ann opened the door to find Speed reclining on his couch reading a book about biology of all things. He looked up when she came in and grinned.

"Hello, grasshopper."

"Hello, Gromphadorhina portentosa." Speed raised his eyebrows.

"A Madagascar Hissing Cockroach? Are you sure you need my help?"

"Oh yeah. I just heard that once and haven't been able to forget it yet. My mind is a storehouse for useless information."

He laughed as he got up to clear some room for her things. As he worked, Ann observed him with a critical eye. Prison had done him good. After almost a year on prison food and almost constant workout, since there was nothing else to do, he had lost a good amount of weight, and had actually developed some real muscles. And as long as he behaved himself, Ann supposed that she would as well.

"Have a seat." He said, gesturing toward an easy chair, and she sat down, keeping an eye on him all the while.

"If it would make you feel better," Speed said sarcastically, "I could keep my hands on the table for the next few hours."

Ann gave soft burst of laughter, and smiled at him.

"Sorry. I don't mean to be such a ninny."

"That's fine." Speed replied, and waved a hand in dismissal. "I do remember the last time we met also y'know."

"Yeah." Ann agreed, lowering her face and blushing. "I'm afraid that I was… impressionable at the time."

"If you knew what Lash did to me after we left, you wouldn't feel so bad."

"Ah, did my Andy give you your just recompense?"

"You could say that." His smile changed as he said, "But I can't say that my opinion of you has changed much."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Ann replied, drawing herself up.

"Good. It was."

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Ann held out her hand.

"Truce?"

"Truce." Speed agreed. "For the time being."

"Hm." Was all Ann said in reply before she turned her attention to the work at hand.

"So, since you're so interested in insects, let's start with that… grasshopper." Ann's eyes twinkled at him.

"As you wish… cockroach."

…

"So what's it like?"

"I'm sorry?"

Speed's question had come out of the blue, and Ann looked at him in puzzlement.

"You know, living next door to your mortal enemy."

"Old Mr. Ford? What about him?"

Speed rolled his eyes.

"Not him, Peace."

Ann straightened up and gave him a look that would have made any man with any notion about how to deal with females run for the hills.

"Now what do you mean by that?"

"Come on, Ann." He continued, as he didn't have a notion. "Anyone who has lived her for more than ten years and was old enough to remember knows the story about your families."

"I don't see what makes this appropriate for small talk." She said icily, turning back to her notes.

"So? Come on."

"Just out of curiosity," Ann snapped, looking up at him sharply, "Just how did you know that we live next door?"

"Because," Speed replied, drawing out the last syllable, "Everyone with two brain cells and a superhero parent knows?"

"Oh really? And pray, why are you bringing this up now?"

"Because, the story of your parents is the biggest real-life soap opera for the past thirty years of superhero history, and now I have the chance to talk to two of the key players' daughter. So come on, spill. What's it like in the Cromwell family?"

Ann stood up very slowly; looking down at him like he was the parasite she had nicknamed him after.

"You want a story? How about this? We never speak about my mother, my father and I. We have no pictures of her in the entire house, and we generally pretend she never existed." Her anger suddenly disappeared. "Sometimes I think it would be easier if she never did. When I was in the school in England, I used to shut my eyes at night and pretend I didn't have a mother, or that Brook was my real mother."

Speed was silent. All in a rush he realized just how tactless he had been. Damn. He'd been trying to stop acting like his father. A great job he was doing.

"Did it make the pain go away?" He finally asked.

"Sometimes." She murmured, sitting back down. "But only for a moment, and then it would all come back to me. You want the truth? The truth is, my mother betrayed everyone who had ever loved her and who she had ever loved back, and for what? For power. For control. As soon as I was old enough, I swore that I wouldn't be like that. That I would completely ignore that aspect of myself if need be, so that I would never develop that burning need to control something that is uncontrollable. To reclaim lost innocence."

"And how is that working?"

"I haven't felt it yet, and I don't think I ever will now."

"_Liar."_

"_Shut up, Wren."_

"If you hate that part of your life so much, why are you hanging out with Peace?"

Ann smiled softly.

"Because I don't blame him, or anyone else, for something that they didn't have anything to do with. He himself has done nothing to hurt me, so why should I treat him any differently then anyone else?"

"Huh." Speed said thoughtfully.

"What?"

"I just never pegged you for the forgiving type." Ann grinned.

"I'm not, one of my many faults. But as I said, he hasn't done anything that I would have to forgive. It's his father that needs the forgiveness."

Speed thought about this for a moment.

"Alright, I guess I can accept that."

"Good." Replied Ann. She then looked at him seriously and said, "Oh, and Speed? If you ever want to have any sort of friendship with me, never mention my mother again. And you will never under any circumstances mention any of this to Warren. He doesn't know who I am, and I hope that he won't for a long time yet."

Speed only nodded in agreement.

…

"WA-WE! WA-WE! WA-WE!"

"I'm sorry Mom, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill your daughter if she doesn't stop _saying that_!"

Brook cringed in agreement and covered her ears.

"What is she talking about anyway? She's been saying that none-stop since that friend of yours came over." She asked.

Ann paused for a moment, and she felt an eye-twitch coming on.

"That's what she's saying! C'mon Ariel, into the snowsuit with you!"

She grabbed her little sister and stuffed her into her little purple snowsuit as quickly as she could, and marched outside with her.

…

Warren was watching MASH on DVD when the doorbell rang, his mother was off saving some third world country, so he was forced to pause right in the middle of one of Hawkeye's snide comments.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a scowling Ann on his front porch holding a wriggling and overly hyper Ariel in her arms. As soon as the baby caught sight of him, she began screaming even louder, and apparently trying to take a nosedive out of her sister's arms.

"WA-WE!" Ariel cried.

"This is your fault you know." Ann said testily.

Warren managed to grab the flailing child before she met with an unfortunate accident, and tried to disguise his pleasure at her remembering him so well.

"It's not my fault if she's smart." He said. "Aren't you? You'd rather be with me then some grumpy, hormonal little Tory, wouldn't you?"

"That was low." Ann reprimanded, shaking a finger at him. "And you see how well you fare when you have a little child screaming the same word, or should I say _name_, at the top of her lungs for days on end."

Surprisingly, Ariel had gone completely silent as soon as she was safely in Warren's arms, and was now very seriously looking over his red locks.

"So what am I supposed to do?" He asked.

"Anything! Play with her. Read her a story. Show her how to brood properly for Pete's sake! I don't care. Just pay attention to her for a little while."

Warren began to get the overwhelming feeling that Ann was already at the end of her rope, and that refusing would not be a good idea. He managed to hunt up some of his old baby toys, and settled Ariel with them, while he sat next to her on the couch and continued watching his show.

"MASH?" Asked Ann, and Warren grunted in reply.

"Oh! This is the one where Margaret's fiancé visits and…"

"Shh."

"Yes, sir."

For the next few hours, they watched together in silence while Ariel played happily. But the peace ended all too soon, as Ariel got hungry and became fussy, so Ann had to take her home.

…

The next few days passed uneventfully. Ann settled into a pattern of school, coming home, doing homework, doing other stuff, going to bed, getting up, going to school… Each day was very much like the last, until a certain day came up. But that day was never like the rest. On that day, Ann and her father were silent to each other, each carefully avoiding the other, and in general being more reserved than usual.

It was also a day that Warren had work at the Paper Lantern. Near the end of the day, when everything was quiet, and there were only half a dozen customers left, Warren noticed a lone figure sitting in the corner. Looking closer, he was taken aback when he saw who it was, and that the small person was crying. He walked closer cautiously.

"Ann?" He asked.

She looked up quickly, wiping a few stray tears away.

"Oh, hey Warren. I didn't know you worked here." Ann said, trying to evade his slightly concerned tone.

"Are you okay?" He pressed.

"Yes." She replied hastily, followed by a soft sob and a blubbered, "No!"

Warren shifted uncomfortably. At least with Layla, she hadn't been crying. He didn't like to admit it, but he hated seeing women who were usually strong and happy weeping.

"Is there anything I can do?" He asked.

"No… no, I don't think so."

He thought for a moment.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Ann looked up at him again, her eyes wide.

"Won't I keep you away from your work?" He shrugged and sat down across from her.

"Not really. There isn't much left to do, and I get off soon anyway."

"Oh… well… it's just that… today is the anniversary of… of my mother's death."

Warren raised his eyebrows.

"She's dead? I didn't know. How long ago was it?"

"I was almost eight then so, eight years."

He frowned. Dang, now wasn't that a coincidence, but he decided that now would be a bad time to pressure her about her, or should he say, _their_ past.

"How did she die?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

He nodded softly.

"It's just…" Warren cocked his head.

"Just what?"

"I've never been able to talk about her to anyone, not even my father. She did… she did some very bad things. She hurt a lot of people. Whenever anyone even hints at mentioning her, my father immediately closes himself off, like a turtle. He goes and hided in his protective shell of silence."

"That must cause a lot of tension."

"Just on today. Tomorrow we'll go right back to the way we were yesterday, as if nothing happened. I just wish that…"

"That you could talk to him about her?" Warren finished for her, and Ann nodded.

"Yeah. I mean, most of my memories of her are pretty grim, and I just want to hear about what she was like before."

The clock on the wall chimed, and Warren looked up at it.

"Hey, look, my shift is over, so how about I take you home?"

Ann gazed at him suspiciously.

"Why?"

Warren gazed back at her insolently.

"Because you're not old enough to have a license, and I'm assuming you walked here."

"No, why are you being nice to me? Why now? I mean, I can understand everything you've done before. Either I've picked on you or Powers has, so you didn't really have a choice there, and Ariel… well… who could refuse an eight-month-old girl who's already in love with you. But why now?"

Warren didn't answer her, only stared back as if he knew that she already knew the answer.

"This is your comfort zone isn't it?" She asked, answering her own question. "This is where you feel most comfortable."

Warren shrugged.

"Whatever. Do you want a ride or not?"

"Not before you answer me. Why do you want to help me?"

He considered this, and finally sighed.

"Because I know how important it is to not be alone on a day like this."

Ann nodded, both understanding and accepting his response.

"I was right. You're not a stereotype."

"Does that mean you're coming?"

"Yeah, sure."

While Ann paid her bill, Warren went to get his jacket. When he came out to the front, Ann smiled at him.

"Hey, why did you let your hair down? I liked it pulled back."

Warren just gave her a look that screamed "Thin ice." And tossed her his extra helmet. When she studied it, Ann broke into a grin.

"Does this mean what I think it means?"

Instead of replying, he just pointed into the parking lot, where a 1995 Kawasaki Vulcan 1500 sat. It was such a dark red that it was almost black. Ann's eyes popped.

"Pretty." She drew out each syllable.

"Thanks." He said, half sarcastically, half proudly as he strutted over to it. "Have you ridden one of these before?"

"One of my friends at my old school at a motorcycle. She would sometimes take me with her when she went on the German Audubon during break."

Warren let out a bark of laughter.

"I'll take that as a yes. Hop on."

Ann skipped over happily, and climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms snuggly around his waist.

"I do have to breath, Ann."

"Sorry." She murmured.

As they raced home through the streets, Ann realized that he had called her by her first name for the first and second times ever that day. When he pulled into the driveway in front of her house and sat there idling, she paused for a moment, and then wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a brief hug.

"Thanks, Warren." She said. "This has meant a lot to me."

He only cleared his throat uncomfortably, and gave a gruff goodbye before riding the last few yards to his own house.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Ann Cromwell came bounding down the stairs, creating the sounds of a small stampede. She blasted by the kitchen door at Mac 5, causing her stepmother to pop her head out curiously.

"Ann?"

She turned around, nearly giving herself whiplash, and grinned.

"Oh! Hi, Mom. Sorry I slept in. Got to go now!"

Brook stepped out of the room fully and crossed her arms over her chest, watching the younger girl amusedly.

"Alright, who is he?" She asked.

Ann looked up from tying her boots.

"Huh?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Uhhhh." Ann thought for a moment, and then it dawned on her. "Oh! I'm sorry!"

She quickly ran over and gave Brook a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Bye-bye."

"Seriously." Said Brook. "Who is he?"

Ann looked at her, and turned her nose up.

"I have no idea what you mean, I'm sure." She said stiffly, before bursting into giggles.

"There's only one thing that I can think of that could possibly make a girl like you forget to kiss her poor mommy goodbye, and that would be an exceptionally hot guy. So who is he? Is it that Warren boy that came over?" Brook grinned. "He was certainly outstanding wasn't he?"

"Haha." Ann replied, rolling her eyes as she struggled with her other shoe. "Yes, I am cheerful. No, I do not have a crush on Warren. Yes, I am, however, looking forward to seeing him."

"Speaking of which, what did you and your father talk about so late?" Her mother asked.

"Well," Ann stopped and straightened, smiling softly. "Someone convinced me that if I never took the initiative, then I would never be able to talk to him about my mother, my birth mother."

Brook raised an eyebrow.

"Let me guess, Warren?"

"Uh, yeah. Actually, he didn't really say that, but I guess just talking about it made me realize how much of a pushover I really am sometimes."

"Well, I'm glad you two had the chance to talk. But right now, you are going to be late for your bus if you don't hurry."

"Oh crap! You're right!" Ann screeched, her eyes widening. "Bye mom!" She called as she barreled out the door.

…

"_Okay, Cromwell. Take a deep breathe and approach with caution."_

"Um, Warren?"

Warren was sitting on a short stonewall outside of the school. When he heard her voice he looked up from his book, actually giving Ann the courtesy of lifting his head completely.

"Yeah?" He asked, quietly, and with one of those 'tones' that is hard to put your finger on, but if Ann guessed, she would call it insolent.

"I have something for you."

He straightened up even more, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Really? Aw, I feel so special."

"Wow, you can be sarcastic." Ann said in mock surprise. "Seriously, I wanted you to have something. I just… I really appreciated what you did for me yesterday. You really didn't have to help me, but you did."

She kept her voice low, which Warren thanked her good sense for. Imagine how his reputation would suffer if anyone found out about _that_ little incident.

"Uh, it was no problem, you really don't have to."

"No, I really want to. And it's something you're almost guaranteed to like!"

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a book, handing it over to him. Warren took it and looked at the title.

"To Kill a Mockingbird?"

"Yeah. It's the first book I ever read. It's all about prejudices and first misconceptions."

"Um… thanks. Did you say the 'first' book?"

"Uh huh. I didn't really read much until I was eight, and then I saw the movie and I just wanted to read the book, so I picked it up and read it. I realized that reading was a good way for me to escape from my life for a little while."

Warren looked at her for a moment, and then gave a brief hand gesture toward the seat next to him.

"So, tell me about this one. I've heard about it but I've never read it."

Ann grinned, and sat herself down.

"Well, it's about a girl named Scout."

"Good name."

"I always thought so too. So, she and her brother…"

…

Lash and Speed got off of their bus to see Ann sitting next to Warren having an animated, yet quiet conversation about Lord-knows-what. They took one look at that, and then each other, and walked over.

"Hello there." Said Speed. Ann looked up and smiled.

"Hello… cockroach."

Speed gave held his hands together flat and gave a slight bow.

"Grasshopper."

Lash pushed his friend aside with an annoyed grunt and scowled at Warren, who was already giving the both of them a death glare.

"Hey, Peace, what do you think you're doing?" He snarled.

"What does it look like, Stretch." Warren replied calmly.

"I'm not sure, but it looks like you're trying to cozy up to Em."

Ann rolled her eyes up to the sky.

"Oh boy. Here we go."

Warren smirked.

"Y'know what, Stretch, I think you had better make yourself scarce before I melt your ass to the pavement."

Lash's face turned bright red.

"Are you threatening me Peace?"

"Andrew." Ann interrupted firmly, and Lash looked over at her. "If you ever want me to so much as look at you again, you will get off of your high horse, and stop pretending like you're my _brother_."

Lash flinched. It was a sore spot with him. To Ann, it seemed like ever since Willow died, he had been trying to use her as a replacement. For an only child, at the time, it had been nice to have someone pay so much attention to her. Now, it was just getting annoying.

"I'm fine, Andy." Ann continued, more gently. "Warren and I were just talking about a book. Is that an acceptable subject?"

Lash glared at Warren, and then looked back at Ann. He finally threw up his hands and with a huff he walked away.

"Fine, Em." He shouted back. "But don't come running to me when he breaks your heart."

The other pair watched him go, and then looked at each other.

"What was that about?" Asked Warren.

"I could ask you the same thing. Does someone have something of a reputation?" Ann asked. Warren was a little taken aback, until he saw that she was grinning, and obviously teasing him.

"Yes." He said flatly. "I'm going to ingratiate myself to you, seduce you, convince you to go to Vegas with me and get married, take all of your money, and then leave you high and dry at the alter."

Ann burst out laughing, and was forced to bend over and hold her ribs to keep them for hurting.

"I think that was probably the longest sentence you've ever made to my knowledge." She taunted back. "But really, I think I have to go now. I'll see you later, okay?"

Warren nodded.

"Later."

He watched her bounce away happily. Wow, she was an unusual creature. Warren frowned as a thought crossed his mind. Maybe, if he became friends with her, she would become comfortable enough with him to tell him what she was trying so hard not too. He shook his head. No, he wouldn't do anything like that. It would only serve to prove Lash right. It was true, some girls had 'fallen in love' with him, and when he had ignored him, and broken into tears, wailed etc. and promptly moved on. But it certainly did nothing to help his reputation.

But Ann was different. The way she acted was more like Layla. She seemed to have a genuine interest in him as a person, and being his friend. It was a rare occasion that he gave anyone much of a chance, but maybe, just maybe, he would see what happened with her. She was certainly nice, and her mom cooked really well… and she then took that food and fed him as if he were a starving man in the desert. And of course there was Ariel… she was just darned cute.

…

"Andrew Baker! Wait right there and don't move while I kick your behind to Timbuktu!"

Lash turned around as he stood in the empty hallway to find an incensed Ann marching toward him. He raised an eyebrow as the much smaller girl came so close to him that their noses were almost touching, and scowled darkly at him.

"What was that about? What did Warren…? Oh wait. Never mind. He's nicer, funnier, and I must say, handsomer then you. Of course you're jealous!" She taunted.

Lash's face went back to that most interesting shade of scarlet.

"How dare you?" He said softly, and Ann took a step back, recognizing that particular tone. "I am just trying to look after you!"

"But I don't _need_ looking after!" She exclaimed back. "I just want to be left alone to spend time with who _I_ want for _one second_!"

"Oh cute the melodrama, Em. You know that everyone let's you do anything you want, and have everything that you want. But now I'm saying that that guy is _trouble_."

Ann's face changed, softened, she looked down.

"I'm sorry." She murmured. "And I'm sorry for what, for everything that I've said. I just really want him to be my friend."

"Why?" And asked in disbelief.

"Because…" Ann looked out a window. "He's… he's… he's fire." She finally said, almost helplessly.

Lash rolled his eyes and let out a sarcastic chuckle.

"Oh, this again."

"Andrew." She begged him silently to listen. "Remember what I told you, about that one time, about how I felt? About how… I felt control, for that one moment when he touched me?"

Andy nodded.

"Well, sometimes, when I'm with Warren. I almost feel that way again, like a shadow of a feeling. I think… that he can help me. He can help me to learn to control my power."

He stared at her strangely.

"Emmy, you haven't talked like this since you were seven years old."

"I know." She protested weakly. "And you know what the worst part is? I'm starting to remember. All of the long nights in our library with mother, trying to find the secret to controlling her fire, and I'm starting to remember _why_ she did it."

"When did this start coming back?" He asked worriedly.

"Ever since I met Warren." She confessed.

"I told you." Andy said darkly. "He's bad for you. No, I'm not going to tell either of you to stay away from the other. But I'm warning you now, this isn't going to end well."

"Maybe." Anna admitted. "But I'm willing to take that chance."

…

Ann let out a yawn and rubbed her eyes as she got up from her after-school nap. As she got up, she straightened her little pale-pink T-shirt and matching velour pajama bottoms. She walked grabbed her brush off of her desk, and began to comb her hair as she walked about her room, she stopped and looked out of her window.

It was strange to think that the house she was looking at was the home of Warren Peace, not to mention that her window and one of the ones on their house were almost perfectly aligned, not to mention a mere three-or-so yards apart. As long as she could remember, the blinds on that window had been closed, but today they weren't.

Curiously, she set her brush aside, and looked closer. It was definitely a bedroom, a boy's bedroom too. I mean, what girl would have giant poster for the 'Lord of the Rings' movies in her room? Ann looked over at one of her own corners. On the other hand…

Looking back, Ann yelped and jumped to see Warren staring back at her with a raised eyebrow. Ann blushed and waved, and he nodded, still looking at her oddly.

Ann gently undid the latch and lifted up her window, and Warren, when he saw what she was doing, did the same.

"Hello!" She called cheerfully, leaning out so far that her entire upper body was outside.

"Hi." He called back.

"What are you doing?"

"At the moment, talking to a crazy girl hanging out of her window in a way that is making me sure that she is going to fall to her death any moment now." He replied cynically.

"Ah! Haha! Just a moment." She replied, holding up a finger.

Closing her eyes, she reached a hand down to the newly planted oak tree below them. Reaching out, she could feel the soft tendrils of energy that were it pulling food from the soil and growing. With a smile, she took her own power and pushed it down to it, feeding it, and slowly it began to grow, until it was tall enough that there were strong branches between the two windows. Opening her eyes, Ann smiled faintly.

"Wow, that took more out of me then I thought."

"Good idea." Warren complimented. "But won't your parents notice the giant tree that's suddenly appeared under their daughter's window?"

"Oh no." Ann laughed. "I've been talking about doing this for a long time now, I've just never gotten around to it. Mom and Father will just give it and odd look and assume that I've just stopped procrastinating for once."

"Uh huh."

"So."

"So?" He asked.

"Come on over!" She replied, irritated. "I certainly can't, I'm beat!"

"Okay, okay." Warren muttered, climbing out of his window and carefully grabbing hold of the powerful branches. On second thought, this probably wasn't a very good idea, but Warren rarely thought twice about anything he did.

When he got next to her window, Ann stepped back so he could climb in. She gave a shout of glee when his feet safely hit her bedroom floor.

"I am a genius!" She whooped happily.

"Right." Warren drawled, taking the time to look around, his eyes fell on her 'fire corner'.

"Wow." Was all that he could think to say.

"Like it?" She asked. "I rarely paint, but a few months ago I got the sudden urge to spruce up the black paint in that corner, followed by a 48-hour marathon including large amounts of tearing hair out of my head, as well as hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate?" Asked Warren.

"I know I'm a pansy. Not nearly as macho as coffee, but I don't drink caffeine."

"Crazy girl." He muttered.

"Hey!" She protested. "It's bad for my voice!"

"You sing?" He asked, gesturing towards her instruments.

"Sometimes. I've always loved music. I learned to play classical guitar and piano when I was little, and when I was older I learned electrical. Learn classical and any other type of guitar is easy. Do you play?"

"Sometimes." He replied with a brief, faint smile. "What do you like?"

"Just about everything. It depends on what I feel like. Would you like me to play something for you?" She asked.

Warren looked up from studying her piano.

"If you want to."

With a sweet smile, she stepped past him, and sat down on the bench. She gently lifted the cover from over the keys, and laid her hands on the ivories.

"Hm." Ann thought for a moment, and then smiled. With a soft touch, she began to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

"I know." She said quietly after awhile. "Not very original. But I've always liked this piece. It's bittersweet, so beautiful, yet tinged with sadness. I've always wondered what Beethoven was thinking about when he wrote it. His pieces were usually so loud and powerful, and then he created something so delicate and soft."

"You," Warren paused. "You're good."

"Thank you." Ann said, still playing.

"Did," He paused again. "Did your mother play."

"Yes." She replied, not missing a beat. "One of my earliest memories is of her singing and playing me to sleep as a toddler. She would make up her own lullabies for me. It's a pity I can't remember them very well. Warren." She said, suddenly stopping and turning to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to know what happened between our families?" She asked.

Warren thought for a moment. When he spoke, his answer was completely honest.

"At the moment, more then anything."

"Alright." Ann nodded. "I'll tell you. But you must promise me something Warren. You must tell no one what I tell you now. If people knew… I'm afraid they would hate me. I'm afraid _you_ will hate me."

Warren considered this for a moment, and decided that it was fair.

"I won't." He promised.

Ann took a deep breath.

"You have to understand how hard this is for me to say but… do you remember hearing of a woman named Eva Yost?"

Warren scowled, his entire expression darkened.

"Are you kidding? She single handedly destroyed my family. Not that my father didn't do his fair share in that."

"What do you know about her?"

Warren shrugged.

"I never met her. She and my father were friends during his last, and her first year of high school. When she graduated, she became his sidekick and…"

"And?" Ann prompted him.

"Eva Yost was my father's lover." Warren hissed between his teeth. He suddenly looked up at her. "Why?"

"Because... because Eva Yost was my mother."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_By the margin, willow-veil'd,  
Slide the heavy barges trail'd  
By slow horses; and unhailed  
The shallop flitteth, silken-sail'd  
Skimming down to Camelot  
Yet who hath seen her wave her hand?  
Or at the casement seen her stand?  
Or is she know in all the land,  
The Lady of Shalott?_

Ann sat in her literature class, and stared out the window. Outside, Warren and Will were trying to help Dr. Medulla with one of his numerous projects. They weren't having much success.

_Only reapers, reaping early,  
In among the beared barley  
Hear a song that echoes cheerly  
From the river winding clearly,  
Down to towered Camelot:  
And by the moon the reaper weary,  
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,  
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy  
Lady of Shalott."_

"Miss Cromwell. Could you please give us your interpretation of today's poem?"

Ann sighed. She had done a paper on this one during her school years in England. She knew the poem itself by heart.

"Tennyson describes the Lady of Shalott as living in a castle on an Island near Camelot. No one sees her, she is completely isolated, yet the farmers hear her singing as they are in their fields, and they know who she is." She began.

…

"Please Warren, don't say anything just yet. Just listen. You're right, my mother met your father in her first year, and he was in his last. My own father had known her for her entire life. They became sort of like you and Warren and Layla, always together, always pulling some prank on the poor unsuspecting staff. But when he graduated, she was mostly alone except for my father."

…

_There she weaves by night and day  
A magic web with colours gay.  
She has heard a whisper say,  
A curse is on her if she stay  
To look down to Camelot.  
She knows not what the curse may be,  
And so she weaveth steadily,  
And little other care hath she,  
The Lady of Shalott._

"Her task is to watch the people of Camelot in her mirror, and weave what she sees into her tapestry. Yet she is cursed to never be able to look upon them with her own eyes. She does not know what would happen were she to disobey the curse, and she is content with her lot."

…

"By the time my mother was fifteen, and my father was sixteen, they were a couple. From what I understand, they were very happy, and for the most part my mother was happy with her abilities. She didn't care whether she could use fire or not."

…

_Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,  
An abbot on an ambling pad,  
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,  
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,  
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;  
And sometimes through the mirror blue  
The knights come riding two and two:  
She hath no loyal knight and true,  
The Lady of Shalott._

"But no matter how happy she is, she is alone. Her life is empty, incomplete, yet she doesn't notice. She doesn't care."

…

"They were happy. Until sometime right after my mom turned sixteen. Everything changed. Everything went wrong."

"So what happened?" Asked Warren icily.

"My mom got pregnant."

Warren sucked in a sharp breath of air.

"My mom had to drop out of high school so that she could take care of the baby. My father made sure that he finished his last two years. It wasn't so bad financially. My grandparents had already died, and Mother had a substantial amount of money from them. But when I was two years old, your father came back into our lives."

…

_A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,  
He rode between the barley sheaves,  
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,  
And flamed upon the brazen greaves  
Of bold Sir Lancelot.  
A red-cross knight for ever kneeled  
To a lady in his shield,  
That sparkled on the yellow field,  
Beside remote Shalott._

"Until one day, in her magic mirror she saw Sir Lancelot. A brave, and some say handsome Knight of the Round Table."

…

"I had never met a pyro before. To this day I can remember the feeling I got when he shook my hand like I was an adult, when he touched me. It was like… all of a sudden I knew what it would feel like to be able to control something as uncontrollable as fire, to feel it burning inside and outside of you. When I looked at my mother, I knew she had felt it too. He was handsome, your father. Barron Battle. He looked a lot like you. And he was kind to me."

…

_She left the web, she left the loom,  
She made three paces through the room,  
She saw the water-lily bloom,  
She saw the helmet and the plume,  
She look'd down to Camelot.  
Out flew the web and floated wide;  
The mirror crack'd from side to side;  
"The curse is come upon me," cried  
The Lady of Shalott._

"When she saw him, she realized how alone she was. She fell in love with him, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not resist the urge to look, and she did. The Lady saw him, her knight in shining armor, but as soon as she did, the mirror broke, and she realized what the curse meant."

…

"I don't remember much about that time. My mother spent a lot of time with your father. She began to help him with his 'work'. I suppose she was his sidekick. She changed too, she began to stay up late at nights, poring over old books about elementals, trying to find the secret of controlling her fire."

…

_In the stormy east-wind straining,  
The pale yellow woods were waning,  
The broad stream in his banks complaining.  
Heavily the low sky raining  
Over tower'd Camelot;  
Down she came and found a boat  
Beneath a willow left afloat,  
And around about the prow she wrote  
The Lady of Shalott._

"The curse was, that she had her task, she had her weaving. But if she were ever to strive for anything more, she would lose everything. So she went down to the river, and prepared her own sort of funeral pyre."

…

"And did she find it?"

"Yes, but not before it was too late, not before it consumed her. By the time she found it, she had already lost her mind from so many failures. And…"

"And…?"

"And from trying to reconcile her love of my father with her obsession with… well… fire. Unfortunately, pyrokinetics are fire."

"Did… did she love him? My father?"

"… I think so. I remember when I was six, seeing them together. She had failed again, and half of her body was covered in burns. Your father cradled her in his arms, soothing her pain away. I think they both loved each other very much."

…

_Heard a carol, mournful, holy,  
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,  
Till her blood was frozen slowly,  
And her eyes were darkened wholly,  
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.  
For ere she reach'd upon the tide  
The first house by the water-side,  
Singing in her song she died,  
The Lady of Shalott._

"Because of her love, she died. For a brief moment of happiness, she lost her life."

…

"By the time she lost her mind, things with Barron Battle had gotten out of hand. He had is own plethora of obsessions, not least of all was world domination. Eva followed him wherever he led. I remember that day, about three months before my eighth birthday. A man and a woman came to our house. When she saw them, my mother went pale. They asked her where 'he' was. But she wouldn't tell them. She told them that she would rather die then let them hurt him."

…

_Under tower and balcony,  
By garden-wall and gallery,  
A gleaming shape she floated by,  
Dead-pale between the houses high,  
Silent into Camelot.  
Out upon the wharfs they came,  
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,  
And around the prow they read her name,  
The Lady of Shalott._

"All came to see her as she floated by, and they wondered who she was, this maiden called 'The Lady of Shalott'."

…

I heard it all from my hiding place in a cabinet. I think… I think my mother tried to stop them from going, because she knew they would find them. Barron took that precise opportunity to show up. There was a fight, and the man hit him so hard that he went flying through several walls, all the way into our back yard."

…

_Who is this? And what is here?  
And in the lighted palace near  
Died the sound of royal cheer;  
And they crossed themselves for fear,  
All the Knights at Camelot;  
But Lancelot mused a little space_

_He said, "She has a lovely face;  
God in his mercy lend her grace,  
The Lady of Shalott."_

"Lancelot, as he seemed to do so many times, saw her dead, never knowing that she died for love of him. The poem is a version of the story of Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat, another woman who pined away and died because of Lancelot. But perhaps the final phrase from the original version of 'The Lady of Shalott' sums it up the best."

…

When my mother saw that the man was going to hit him again, she cried out. I'd never heard a scream so filled with anguish. She jumped in front of his fist, I don't think I'd ever seen her move so fast, and she went flying. But my mother was like me, we are both fast but we get hurt easier then other people. Her body couldn't take an impact of that force. The doctor told us later that her entire ribcage had completely collapsed. She died on impact. Barron they took away, and I found out later that he was in prison."

…

_"The web was woven curiously,  
The charm is broken utterly,  
Draw near and fear not -- this is I,  
The Lady of Shalott."_

"Her final wish was that the people that she looked upon every day would finally look upon her, and feel no fear. And perhaps, feel a little bit of love for the nymph."

…

"So now you know. And do you hate me for it? Me, I got over it long ago. It still hurts sometimes, but I learned a long time ago to not blame people for things that they didn't do."

Warren was silent, staring out the window, trying to take in everything that he had heard.

"How could you not tell me this?"

"Because I… I didn't want you to be angry with me. I was afraid that if you knew, you wouldn't want to be my friend. That's all I've ever wanted, your friendship, and to understand why my mother did what she did."

"And you think I can help you do that?"

Ann shrugged.

"I don't know."

"One thing, Ann." Warren said bitterly. "Eva Yost had one child, a daughter named Ember Yost."

Ann blushed.

"My birth name is Ember Hannah Cromwell. People who doubt that my father was really my father choose to insult me by calling me by my mother's maiden name, which even she only used when she was in costume."

Warren turned to look at her, and Ann shivered at the look in his eyes.

"I'm not going to apologize. I didn't do anything wrong." She said, trying unsuccessfully to sound defiant.

"I didn't think you would." He replied, before climbing back out of her window and jumping down to the ground below. Ann could only watch him go, and when he was gone she curled up with the only picture of Eva Cromwell she had and wept.

…

"So in the end, it's about self-sacrifice. How much are you willing to give up for your art, or for just about anything that isolates you. What would happen if we were to ignore our responsibilities and just do what we wanted?"

The teacher smiled.

"Thank you, Ann. That was a wonderful job."

In her heart, Ann had always compared her mother to the doomed Lady, but in a way, she supposed she herself was a little bit in danger of becoming like her, she had already started on her mother's path of obsession and mania, she knew that. But her own desire for fire was not for the power, as it was with Eva, but she wanted fire for fire's sake alone. To be able truly understand the beauty and persona of not only flame, but those who wielded it as well.

…

As she walked into the cafeteria, Ann saw that Will and his group were back, with a faint smile she walked over to them.

"Hello." She said faintly. "Mind if I sit with you guys?"

The entire rest of the cafeteria, who had all seen her sit with Warren for the past week or so, went silent, and most of them looked over at Warren, who was in his usual position, bent over a book.

"Sure!" Layla said happily. "We have a lot to catch up on don't we."

"Yeah." Ann replied, sitting down next to the plant-girl.

Will looked around the room curiously.

"What's with them?" He asked, as they all turned back, realizing that there would be no fireworks today.

Ann shrugged.

"I don't know." She said, before focusing her attention on her food.

Layla cast her a suspicious, I-know-there's-something-wrong-and-I-won't-rest-until-I-know-what-it-is look.

"Are you okay?" The redhead asked the brunette.

"Just tired. I didn't get much sleep last night." She said.

"Probably because you were sobbing your eyes out over some…"

"Quiet Wren."

Layla decided to let her go for now, and maybe press her further when there were fewer people about.

…

Mercifully, Ann had managed to avoid attending Save the Citizen, but unmercifully, she found she couldn't evade it any longer. Dressed in looser black jeans and a dark red sports bra, she entered the gym, and took her seat as far away from Warren as possible. Will and the crew came to sit by her, and Layla smiled at her.

"Jeans?" She asked questioningly.

"I find them comfortable." Ann explained simply, and Layla nodded.

"Okay people, listen up." Shouted Boomer from his perch. "Today's teams will be chosen by me. Out in the world, you can't always choose who you work with, and you're going to have to learn to be adaptable. Heroes are going to be Peace and Brice. Villains. Baker and Cromwell."

Ann's face went white, and she nearly passed out. Warren and Speed against her and Lash? Either Boomer was also telepathic, or he just had an uncanny knack for finding the best way of making the most uncomfortable people at a time possible. Getting up, she went to put on the protective gear.

Warren looked over at Ann as she got up, and his eyes widened. Not only was she wearing at top that exposed two-thirds of her torso, but it also revealed something interesting. On her lower back, just above her, ahem, tailbone was a tattoo of a rampant lion, in the style of the old heraldry. It wasn't overly large, but it wasn't small either, maybe as tall as her hand was long. It was strange to Warren that a girl as generally well behaved as Ann, Ember, he corrected himself, had a tattoo, especially one in that particular spot.

Standing across from Warren and Speed, and next to Lash, Ann could feel her knees going weak. What had possessed her to come today? Why couldn't she have found another problem that kept her from being there? Why couldn't she have made up one? Why couldn't she have just skipped the bloody class altogether?

"I'll take Speed." She said. "I think I can stop him."

"Right." Replied Lash, nodding. "Watch out for Peace."

"I will." She agreed.

As soon as the fight began, Ann closed her eyes and reached out. There was a tremendous amount of moisture in the air, probably from the rain clouds outside, and as she calmed her racing heart, she grasped it with invisible fingers, and pulled it down to the floor of the gym. Water began to form on the ground, making Speed create small waves as he zoomed about. As she worked, Lash made sure that she was protected until she was finished.

Reaching out again, Ann coaxed the water to drop its temperature, to gradually form into a thin sheet of ice, but made sure that it wasn't completely solid. The slippery surface that was formed was too much for Speed. In the middle of a barrel-run at Lash, he tripped, flipped up into the air, and came crashing down onto the ice. Anyone who has fallen on ice knows how tremendously painful it is, and Speed was effectively incapacitated for the moment.

Warren was having problems of his own. Lash was stretching all over the place, blocking his attempts to get at that annoying doll. When he saw the ice forming on the ground, he growled softly, and looked at Ann, and then at Lash. She was the key. Lash was distracted trying to protect her, even though she currently had a small tornado spinning around her, forming a fairly effective shield. If he could get Lash's attention focused on her for just a moment, he could get to the 'citizen'.

Forming a fireball in his hands, he waited for a few seconds until the opportune moment, and then threw it. Ann's eyes flew open as she sensed the fire coming toward her, and she turned to get out of the way, but she was too late. The ball slammed into her side, and she screamed in agony.

Warren went numb, and didn't even notice when the doll was shredded. He watched in horror as Ann slowly picked herself up and turned to him. Her left arm, side, and part of her leg were covered in what were probably deep-second-degree burns. When she saw him her eyes flashed.

"What. The **hell**. Was that?" She screamed. "You're supposed to incapacitate, not try to kill, you pyromaniacal git!"

"I thought that your kind couldn't be hurt by fire!" He shouted back.

"When we know the bloody thing is coming, yes! But when you toss the stuff at our heads, and just expect us to dodge, we don't have the time to form ice on our skin to protect us!"

Layla ran over, interrupting their argument.

"Ann! Are you alright?" She asked. "Oh! Stupid! Of course you're not all right! Here, we have to get you to the nurse."

"Her name isn't Ann." Warren snapped. "It's Ember."

Layla stopped her fussing, and slowly turned to Warren.

"What?" She asked.

"Her name is Ember Hannah Cromwell."

Will walked over to his best friend.

"Wait, how do you know that?" He asked.

"She told me. And you know what she also told me?"

Ann looked at him, and shook her head slightly. Her meaning was clear. If he told them what she had told him, then he would have broken his promise, and she would not be pleased. Warren stared back into her eyes, before taking her lightly by the arm and leading her away.

"I'm sorry." He whispered quietly enough that only Ann heard.

"What do you want?" She whispered back.

"I said I was sorry. Maybe you could say you forgive me."

"Do you forgive me?"

Warren frowned at her.

"Do you forgive me for being my mother's daughter?" She clarified.

Warren didn't know what to say to that. On the one hand, he could say that it did, and get her friendship back. Or he could say that it didn't. The problem was, he wasn't sure which was the truth.

"I…" He began, and stopped. He felt something like Damocles, with a sword hanging above his head by a hair.

"I didn't think so." Ann said before Warren could actually say anything, turned around, and walked out, heading for the nurse's office.

He watched her go. Why hadn't he said something? She was right; he really hadn't gotten over hearing that his new, he had to admit, friend was the daughter of a woman he had hated almost his entire life. He also knew that he usually would have completely fried her on the spot, without really needing a good excuse. But now, he just looked at her, and the lion on her back.

* * *

I know, I know, it's angsty. But I swear, this is about as sappy as it's ever going to get. Things will get much better in the next chapter. 


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"You're really very stupid, you know that, Cromwell?"

"I think that I've figured that out by now, Windy." Ann snapped back to one of the two other females present.

Windy was generally one color. Pale blue-white hair, skin, and eyes. Her hair reached almost to the floor, and her long, medieval-style dress was also pale blue.

"Now Windy, be nice to Em. She is having a hard time." Said the other, who was much more soft-spoken.

"No, Gaia." Ann said, holding up a hand. "I can't make anymore excuses for myself. I behaved very badly. But what can I do?"

"Uh, apologize?" Suggested Windy.

"But how? How do I know he would even listen to me? I was a total git! I wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to me again!"

Gaia frowned, considering. Of all of Ann's personal elements, she was best at getting her out of social mishaps. She certainly understood people a lot better then Ann, or any of the others for that matter. With one dark brown hand she twisted a strand of her evergreen-colored hair into a thin braid, and then unwound it. Her eyes, which were all the colors of autumn leaves, twinkled as she pondered the problem.

"Well?" Prompted Windy.

"I don't know." Gaia finally said. "In my experiences with Ember, I have never met anyone like this Warren. I have no idea what he would react best to."

Ann rolled her eyes.

"Oh lovely."

"Ann!"

Popping her head out of her door, Ann called back.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Your father and I are going now. Remember, we're taking Ariel to stay with your grandparents for next three days, but then you're going to pick her up and take care of her for the rest of the time we're on this dang-blasted business trip. We'll be back in two weeks, and there is enough milk in the refrigerator to last even Ariel at least that time. Have fun and don't get into trouble!"

"Yes Mom! Have fun!" Ann replied. Her parents had gotten a sudden call that there was some serious problem going on at one of her father's properties in San Francisco, so now they would be gone for the next couple of weeks, and Anna would be all alone.

"That's it." She muttered, grabbing her jacket and heading down to the garage.

"Oh no you don't." Windy warned her, while Gaia wrung her hands worriedly.

In the garage was her father's new newly repainted, forest green Honda XR650L. Peter Cromwell had bought the bike on a whim earlier that year, and had ridden it as much as he could in his free time. To be perfectly honest, Ann hadn't been completely truthful to Warren. While she as in England, she had learned to ride well enough, and her father had allowed her to use his bike on occasion as long as she wore practical clothing, and didn't go too fast. If he knew that she was currently in black jeans, a white leather jacket, and hiking boots, Ann would probably have had a bee in her ear. But he didn't, and Ann wasn't in the mood to listen to her father's, or the state's traffic laws. So she was a few months away from her motorcycle license… okay, so it was actually an extremely bad idea, but again, Ann wasn't in the mood.

Pulling on her own matching dark green helmet, she calmly rolled the bike out of the garage, locked the house, and set off. She took back roads as often as she could, even using old trails, and even going completely off road. By the time she had gotten to her destination, her blood was pumping, and her head was a little clearer. Looking up at the sight in front of her, she smiled sadly.

Seeing her childhood home always reminded her of her time in Britain. Her mother's wealthy and eccentric ancestor had built it sometime in the 1920's. He had decided that he wanted it to look as old and elegant as possible, so he had imported stones from England, and had built his home in the style of the old British estates. The stones were a dark gray, and had been covered long ago by the terror of the northwest, American Ivy. Her ancestor had decided that it looked 'quaint', and had let it grow willy-nilly. Unfortunately, he had underestimated just how invasive the plant was, and it had taken over. But it had yet to come in and strangle anyone at night, so they had let it be.

Ann fingered the keys in her pocket, but turned from the house, and walked out into the fields. On her way, she passed the other structure on the property, the equally old barn. It couldn't possibly get more cliché as far as barns go, big, creaking, and red. The Yost family had always had a certain fascination with farm life, even though they hadn't needed the income for a hundred years. And for the past hundred years, they had kept this farm with its chickens, cows, pigs, horses, and all of that other stuff you expect on a farm. When her mother had died, her father had set it up so that people would come every day to take care of the animals and the house, packed up, and moved to the suburban area. But Ann had always kept a special place in her heart for her old home, and whenever things had gotten tough, she had found a way to get away and come to her old tromping grounds.

Finally, she came to the place she had been looking for. The trees parted to reveal a clear, silver stream bubbling and laughing over the rocks, and by its side there was a single, small, obelisk shaped stone. On it was carved the portrait of a woman, and the words,

Eva Iola Yost-Cromwell

Loving and Beloved Mother

"The Power Isn't Worth Pain.

But Life Is."

1974-1998

"Hey Mom." Ann said softly as she sank to the ground in front of her mother's gravestone. "I know, you can't hear me, but it is nice to pretend every once in awhile."

She sighed and looked down at her hands, and began to pick at her nails.

"I'm in a real mess. Yeah, bigger then the time I replaced Andy's drug test with lemon-lime Gatorade. I let my pride get in the way of salvaging what was left of a friendship, and now… now I don't know if I _can_ salvage it.

"You guessed it, Mom. He is Warren-freaking-Peace, and of all the men, of all the pyros in the world, I had to meet him. People have been lying, you know, he isn't like his father, and yet he is. Does that make sense? He isn't his father. He teases me for listening to Andy's paranoia, he looks at Ariel like she is the most precious gem in the world, and he said he was sorry, actually said it. But he is like his father. His temper is quick, sometimes I look at him and I'm afraid, because I can see it in his eyes, he can be cruel, not thinking about others feelings, and he can hold a grudge like no-man's-business. So why do I care, Mama? Why do I care what he thinks of me, or whether he thinks of me as a friend or not. Is it because he's a pyro? Is it something more?"

Ann's ramble/thinking out loud had lasted longer then she thought. When she looked up, the sky had begun to turn violet and pink with the approaching sunset. But she didn't want to go, not yet.

"Hey." Said a soft voice, and Ann's head whipped around in surprise.

Warren stood there, in the entrance to the clearing, calmly looking over the stream, the obelisk, and Ann, on her knees in front of it.

"How did you know I would be here?" Asked Ann.

"I called your mother when you didn't answer my phone calls. She said you might be here. It wasn't too hard to find you, what with the nicely worn path leading here."

"Congratulations." She drawled back, and inwardly winced. Did she sound as sarcastic to him as she did to herself?

"I _did_ say I was sorry." Guess she did.

Ann stood up and brushed off her jeans.

"I know. I just need some time to… to… um…"

"To what? Think of a good excuse to have your father send me to the guillotine?" Warren asked testily.

"Did you just come here to insult me, Warren? Or is there an actual reason that you're bothering me?" Ann snapped back.

"I thought that we might be able to talk, but you don't seem to want to listen to reason."

"Then maybe you should just crawl back into that little hole in the ground you came out of." Ann replied, glaring at him, her lips a thin line, and turned to march away before stopping abruptly. Taking a deep breath, she rolled her eyes up to the heavens.

"No." She said, and turned around. "I didn't mean that. I don't really mean any of it. It's just… I'm not so good at forgiving and forgetting as I would like to be, and _I'm_ sorry."

Warren walked over to stand by her.

"So, you'll forgive me?"

"If you forgive me." Ann said with a soft smile that made her eyes sparkle.

Warren thought for a moment, and then held out his hand.

"Deal." With a smirk, he added. "You know, it would probably be easier to just start all over again."

Ann broke into a full-on grin, and shook his hand vigorously.

"You're probably right." She agreed.

"So, well then. Hi, I'm Warren Peace, son of Barron Battle."

With an answering smirk and a chuckle, Ann shook his hand again.

"Hello, I'm Ember Cromwell, daughter of Eva Yost Cromwell. Pleased to meet you."

They looked at each other for a moment, for the moment content with life. Finally Ann, or Em, smiled.

"Alright! Now that that's over and done with, what do you want to do?"

Looking around, Warren's eye caught on the gravestone.

"Is that where she's buried?" He asked, and Ann nodded. "Why don't you tell me about her? I don't really know that much, aside from the fact that she well… yeah."

"Don't you think you've had enough angst for one week?" Asked Anna, and Warren shrugged.

"So, don't tell me about the sad stuff."

"Oh." Said Em, rolling her eyes. "What about my mother _wasn't_ sad. Mm. I suppose the happiest I remember her being was when I was very little. She was so beautiful, and she would let me brush her hair." Unconsciously playing with a lock of her own hair, she smiled wistfully. "She had lovely hair. It was dark brown, just a little lighter then yours. I remember her eyes too. That and her mouth are really the only things I got from her. So what about you? What is your father like?"

"We weren't really that close." Warren replied, leaning against a tree, hands in his pockets. "I guess my favorite memories of him are when we were just doing normal father-son type stuff. You know, teaching me to ride a bike, and play ball and stuff like that."

"Do you ever get to see him?"

"I could, but I don't really want to."

Ann nodded her head in understanding. Suddenly, she frowned, and turned to look around.

"Do you hear that?" She asked.

Warren strained, and he could vaguely hear what sounded like dogs barking.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"It's just, the dogs shouldn't be this close. They're usually kept in the barn when nobody's home. Maybe they got out, or someone forgot to put them back after they were finished."

"Um… Ann, Em, Ann, whatever."

"Yeah?"

"Just what _kind_ of dog are they?"

"Why?"

"I… uh…"

Just then, a pack of five, very large German Sheppard's burst in the clearing and came bounding toward the pair. Warren took one or two steps back, which were one or two steps too many. With a cry, from Ann, he found himself falling backwards, straight into the river.

"Warren!" Ann shouted, followed by a scowl and a string of curses in several languages at the dogs. "Now you've done it you little mongrels!"

Wading into the freezing cold water, Em quickly grabbed Warren's upper arm and helped drag him up onto the ground.

"Merde, Warren. You could have just told me you didn't like dogs!" She scolded. Her frown faded as she realized that he wasn't responding.

"Oh merde." She muttered as she felt his forehead, he was shivering. "Hypothermia. Damn pyros can't take the damn cold."

"Whuzzat 'bout us." Warren slurred.

"Shut up and work with me. We have to get you inside."

Under the circumstances, Warren ignored the insult and with a bit of struggling, they managed to get him on his feet. Even leaning heavily on Ann, he was wobbling.

"Okay, now you're going to have to walk with me because I can't carry you. So come on Warren, move!" She urged.

Warren's shivering had gotten worse, almost to the point of convulsions, but he still moved one foot forward, and then the other. Still leaning on Ann, they limped as quickly as they could to the house, the dogs yelping and barking around them.

"Here, lean against the wall there." Ann said, gently sliding his arm from around her shoulders, and fumbling in her pocket.

"Merde." She muttered again as she dropped her keys on the ground. Her hands were shaking almost as bad as his. With only a few more seconds of fumbling and cursing, she managed to open the door and pull him inside.

"Oh." Warren said weakly as he saw the interior. "Pretty."

"Yeah, yeah, all white and bright. Now walk!"

"Y'aren't bein' vry nice." He murmured.

"No merde. Faugh, I have to stop saying that." Ann snapped back as she dragged him into one of the darkened rooms.

Inside was a comfortable living room complete with leather sofas, fireplace, bookshelves, and wide screen TV. Ann let Warren slip onto the rug in front of the fireplace as she scurried toward it. She quickly found matches, wood, and old newspaper, and mentally said a prayer of blessing for the men and women who kept the house so well stocked. With only a minimum of scuffling she got the tinder and paper arranged in the fireplace, and managed to strike a match and light the paper in several places.

"Of all of the times to not be able to control fire."

"_Ahem."_

"_What now, Wren!"_

"_Try it, kitten."_

"_You mean…?"_

"_Just do it."_

Closing her eyes and focusing on the few flames, Ann took every bit of anger she could find in herself she shoved it all at them. With a slight flame-thrower effect, the fire roared to life, and she sighed in relief, and quietly thanked Wren for not being a total… ahem.

But when she looked back at Warren, she saw that his skin had turned a grayish-blue color, and he was moving even less then before.

"Oh come on, Warren." Ann crooned, moving to sit beside him. "Don't do this to me. You've got to fight it!" An idea suddenly came to her, one which she really should have thought about a lot earlier, but really wasn't something she wanted to do.

"Don't get the wrong idea about this, but these clothes are too wet and cold for you right now." Ann warned as she began to peel off his jacket, and then began on his shirt.

"Knew it."

"What was that?" She asked distractedly.

"Knew this was all just an excuse to get my shirt off."

Ann stopped and took his face between her hands, making sure he was looking at her straight in the eyes.

"Listen to me, Warren Peace. Under any other circumstances I would have boxed your ears for saying something like that. However, since I really don't want you passing out right now, I'm going to let it go, and for now you can say anything you bloody well want as long as you're conscious. Any other time and I _will_ kill you. Understand?"

"Y's'm'm." He muttered back.

"Goody. Now help me out here."

Warren managed to move, or more accurately slump, in the right directions as she pulled his t-shirt, shoes, socks, and jeans off, leaving him in his boxers. Squeezing her eyes shut to quell the headache threatening to begin raging in her skull, she began to pull off her own jacket. Warren opened his eyes just as she pulled off her jeans, leaving her in her sports bra and panties. He gave a weak grin.

"Wul'd I get hit f I s'd m'dayz get'n bett'r'n bett'r?" He asked.

"Yes." She snapped back, but couldn't help but smirk slightly.

"Aw crap!" She exclaimed as her warm skin came in contact with his cold body. Cringing, she wrapped her arms and legs around his body and pulled a wool blanket over them. Warren moved his arms slightly so that his arms were around her.

"Th's ain's'bad."

"It will be when you die because I left you here alone because of the incessant perviness!"

"Fr's, tht ain'a'wrd. Secn' m'a'**_gy_**. Th's's nrm'l fr me."

"Right, how about I do the talking, and you listen to me?"

"O'ky, M." He agreed.

"Just don't fall asleep on me, okay? Um… let's see… have you ever heard the poem 'The Lady of Shalott'?"

"N'"

"I'll tell it to you. Um… On either side the river lie. Long fields of barley and rye."

"O. Th't knd'v feld."

"Shut up. That clothe the wold, and meet the sky; and thro' the field the road runs by to many towered Camelot."


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Warren Peace let out a soft groan as he woke up. His throat hurt, his neck was stiff, and his nose was plugged up. Damn hypothermia and all of its immune-system-lowering-ness. God, did he just think that? He was sicker then he thought. Turning his head as far as his neck would allow, he saw Ann curled up in an easy chair nearby him.

He smiled softly when he saw her. She had changed since what he assumed what the night before. Now she wore a pale purple nightgown with straps and a heart neckline. It had an empire waist, and the skirt was made out of many layers of some sort of light, floaty stuff that Warren was sure had some fancy name that he couldn't think of at the time. All in all, the dress gave her a more soft, delicate, and vulnerable air then she usually had.

With a soft sigh Ann adjusted herself in her chair as she woke up, making her gown shift to reveal small, highly arched feet. Again, Warren smiled to see her looking so sweet.

"Hey." He tried to say, but his sore throat and dry mouth made it end up being more of a croak.

Ann's eyes opened slowly, and she smiled softly at seeing him awake, the gentle look still not leaving her face.

"Hey." She replied quietly. "You gave me quite the scare."

"Sorry." Warren replied. "You look nice."

Ann blushed as she uncurled herself from her chair, and set about straightening her rumpled hair.

"Thanks." She murmured back.

"You have really, really long hair."

"I know." Ann replied, grateful for the opportunity to say something sarcastic.

"How long have I been out?"

"Since the night before last."

Warren fell into a fit of coughing.

"What? That long?" He managed to gasp out after a few failed attempts, and Ann nodded.

"You got over the cold fairly quickly, but the cold started pretty soon after, and you had… have" She corrected herself after putting a hand on his forehead "A fever. You were a bit delirious."

"And you didn't take me to a doctor!" Warren protested.

"Come on, I've taken care of enough sick people to know how to look after one hothead with a cold."

"Don't call me hothead." He grumbled.

"No whining. How do you feel?"

Warren considered this question. He felt horrible, which she probably already knew, so he imagined she wanted to know if he felt unusual in anyway. His eyes widened as he realized…

"I can't feel my legs!" He shouted.

Ann looked at them oddly, and then shook her head and reached over to grab something off of his legs.

"Maxine! Off!" She snapped as she tossed a ball of cat off of him. Warren stared after the cat, which now regained its dignity and flounced off in consternation.

"How could something that small make my legs go numb?" He asked and winced as pins and needles shot through his legs.

"I imagine you haven't had that many animals sit on your lap?" Warren shook his head. "When they sit on just the right nerve for long enough, the ol' legs turn right off. Max here has been snoozing on you off and on for the past day. It seems you're something like an incubator at the moment, and Max loves the heat."

"Uh huh." Warren said as he struggled to move his weakened body.

"Do you want to sit up?" Ann asked, suddenly flying to his side. "Here, let me help. It would probably be a good idea for you to move anyway."

Warren growled and smacked her hands away. He might be sick but he would _not_ let Ember Cromwell help him to sit up… for Pete's sake.

"Oh stop fussing!" Em scolded him, and resolutely put her hands under his arms. "You aren't strong enough to lift Ariel, much less yourself."

After a brief battle of hands and wills, Warren allowed her to assist him in sitting up on the couch.

"_Damn."_ He thought. _"That girl can be really bitchy when she's being maternal. Maternal! What the hell am I thinking! Ugh!"_

Once he was sitting up, he noticed to his chagrin that all he was wearing were his boxers. He looked at Ann curiously, suddenly remember their 'conversation' when he had been ill. Ann blushed again and scowled at him.

"Say it again, and I _will_ hit you this time." She warned.

"But I'm still sick!"

"You're not at death's door anymore, but if you even think of saying anything now, you will be."

Warren smirked. Ah, the spirit that this one showed when her honor, or lack thereof, was in question. British.

"Do you want anything?"

"Some water?"

"Just a minute." Ann went out of the room, and came back a few minutes later with a large glass of water. "I'll be going in a few minutes, but I should be back in about a half an hour. Is there anything else you need? I could set you up with a DVD."

"Uh, yeah, whatever." Warren replied as he sipped on his drink.

"Okay, my Father has like, every single movie ever here, so what do you feel like?"

"I said I don't really care."

"Snippy aren't we? Okay, have you ever seen Arabian Nights?"

"No, but I read the book."

"It's good. Adventure, comedy, fantasy, even true love!"

"Why am I getting Princess Bride flashbacks?"

"Because you're ill and crabby?"

"That's probably it."

Ann popped the DVD in, made sure that he was comfortable and that the remote control was within reach, as well as fixing him a mug of chicken broth. After that she had to go.

When she came back, she smiled to see Warren absolutely wrapped up in the movie.

"A man of infinite jest." Said the man on the screen. "That's a good one. Write that down before I forget it."

Warren chuckled and took another sip of broth.

"Enjoying yourself?" Asked Ann.

"As far as being sick goes, this isn't too bad." Warren affirmed.

"To make it better, I have a surprise for you."

Warren turned when he heard a muffled sound that sounded suspiciously like…

"WA-WE!" Ariel finally screamed out as Em pulled her out of her snowsuit, which had been muffling her cries before. Warren couldn't help it, he broke into a grin and held out his arms for her.

Ann stopped dead in her tracks. She had been moving to hand her sister to him, but seeing Warren Peace's grin had been… unexpected. It was like a chandelier suddenly lighting up in the middle of a dark room.

"Well?" Warren asked. "Bring the baby!" He whined, the fever obviously affecting his brain again.

"Oh." Ann covered quickly. "I was just considering who was the bigger baby, Ariel or you."

"Oh haha, make fun of the sick guy." He muttered as he settled Ariel on his lap.

"Really. Who knew the great Warren Peace was such a wailer when he was sick?" Ann teased as she set about warming up a bottle for Ariel, who she could see was about to start fussing. Sure enough, a minute later she was making moaning sounds, making Warren get panicky.

"Um, Ann? Is she okay? Am I holding her wrong? Is she getting my sickness?"

"She's just hungry. And besides, she's already had the cold this year. Otherwise I wouldn't have brought her here." Em reassured him as she sat down, cradled Ariel in her arms, and set about feeding her.

Watching Anna with her infant sibling, Warren smiled for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. She would make a great mother. She already looked like some sort of Madonna with her long hair falling over both Cromwell's faces as she looked down tenderly at the child.

…

"Warren, do you want some more tea… oh!"

Ann stopped abruptly as she entered the living room that night. A tender smile touched her face as she saw Warren lying on his side on the couch, with Ariel in only her fresh diaper held against his bare chest, a blanket draped over his waist. There was something so paternal about the way they looked, sleeping there together. Ann brushed a hand over her heart, wondering why it had sped up for a moment there. Maybe it was just her imagination. She moved her hand to touch her mouth as she considered. No. No it wasn't possible. It would be too… too strange.

"Do you have to put Ariel to bed now?"

Ann started at Warren's soft question. She realized that his one eye was open a crack, and he had been looking at her for Lord-knows-how-long.

"I'm afraid so. I'd let her sleep with you, only you might role over during the night."

"Good point." Warren agreed, but he still looked sad as Ann picked up the still sleeping child and carried her out of the room.

She came back a few moments later in her nightgown from the morning. Warren frowned.

"Aren't you going to sleep now?"

"I'm going to sleep in here for now, so you don't have to walk around if you need anything. I'll be right here." She said, settling herself on the other couch in the room.

"Em?" Warren asked after a few moments. Ann sighed.

"Yes?"

"What's with the tattoo?"

Ann burst out laughing. She would have fallen over if she hadn't have been lying down. As it is, it's not terribly comfortable to laugh that hard in a reclining position.

"Oh, I got that on a whim last year."

"Weren't you like, fourteen then?"

Ann rolled onto her side so that she could look at Warren.

"One of the bonuses of living in a very remote part of an already lenient society, you can get away with a lot."

Warren looked over at her.

"So why a rampant lion? Isn't that a part of heraldry?"

"Actually, it was part of the old Cromwell heraldry. I just kind of felt like putting a permanent ode to my ancestors on my back one day."

"Right." Said Warren as he rolled his eyes.

"Okay, so it might have been my first time ever drinking anything stronger then wine, but still…!"

Warren let out a bark of laughter.

"Ah ha! So the truth is out! So tell me, what were you drinking?"

"Champagne actually. That stuff goes to your head _so_ fast."

"Lightweight."

"Am not! Champagne is a lot more alcoholic then people give it credit for!"

"Oh give it up and go to sleep, Em."

Ann rolled over to face the back of the couch, muttering about stupid pyros and leaving said stupid pyro to die next time he went for a swim in _her_ river.

…

The young pyro woke up the next morning feeling a lot better, though still very weak. Looking around, he saw that he was alone in the room. He also saw that someone had left a dark blue flannel shirt over a chair near the fire. Smiling slightly, he picked it up and put it on. It was nice and warm from the fire, and actually fit him quite well. After going to the bathroom, he decided to step outside for a moment.

As soon as he opened the door, he was hit with a blast of cold air, and he shivered. Even though he was tempted to turn around and go right back in, he gritted his teeth and stepped out onto the porch. As he listened to the sound of the wind in the trees, he began to hear the faint strains of a song. Someone was singing, and they were coming closer.

Ann came around the side of the house just then. Warren quirked and eyebrow and smirked when he saw what she was wearing. She wore a dark green flannel, dark blue jeans, her usual black hiking shoes, and a well-worn, brown leather cowboy hat. And it wasn't one of those prissy, modern American cowboy hats either. It was like the older kind. Flat, round brim and a flat top.

Warren raised both eyebrows when he saw what she was singing to. Behind her she lead a large white horse. It was unusual in that it's head, mane, tail, and lower legs were black. Catching sight of Warren, it neighed and bobbed its head.

"Oh quiet you." Ann scolded, and then looked over at Warren. "Hello!" She called.

As the pair came closer, Warren walked over to them hesitantly. The horse was a whole inch taller then Ann at the withers.

"That's a big horse." Warren commented unnecessarily.

"Seventeen hands. He's my Blue Roany-woany. Isn't he?" She said, going into full baby talk and rubbing his neck.

"Blue Roan? I've heard of those." Warren said, reaching over a hand for the horse to inspect. "What's his breed?"

"Quarter Horse. His name is White Wizard, but mostly I just call him Boo-boo."

"Ah, a Lord of the Rings fan." Warren smirked.

"And proud of it too." Ann smiled proudly. "Now why don't you go inside and wake up Ariel. I'll be right in to make you some breakfast after I put him away."

The words had hardly left her mouth before Warren ran back into the house, all the while trying to pretend _not_ to run.

"He's so whipped." Ann remarked to Wizard, who nodded his head in agreement.

…

"Hey, Ann. Do you want to come watch Beauty and the Beast with Ariel?"

"God, you're such a pushover Warren."

"I know, but do you want to come watch it too?"

"I can't. I have a paper to write."

Warren grabbed a nearby desk chair and pulled it up to Ann's seat at her computer.

"Oh? What about?"

"Funny thing that. My English Lit teacher was so impressed with my telling of The Lady of Shallot, that she asked me to write a complete study of it that she could present to the class. Unfortunately, my report from way back when isn't quite fitting for this setting, so now I have to re-write it."

There was silence between them for a while as Ann typed diligently, and Warren read over her shoulder.

"You know," Ann finally said, "Aren't you supposed to be doing something?"

"No. I've already set Ariel up with the movie. I just wanted to know if you wanted to see it too."

Ann gave a soft, 'Hm', and doubled her efforts to ignore him.

"So, Ann."

"Yes?" She responded in a slightly annoyed voice.

"Wasn't your grandfather a lion shape shifter?"

Ann sighed.

"Yes, and he had a sort of demi-form, and super-strength, agility, and certain heightened senses. Not to mention he tends to roar when he's displeased with something and he has something of the instincts." Ann rattled off mechanically.

"Really? Do you have any of those powers?" Asked Warren, obviously leading to something.

"Not so much. I'm not strong, but I'm certainly bendy enough."

"Oh!" Warren exclaimed, pretending to be surprised.

Ann turned around in her chair and glared at him.

"So that's what you've been getting at! You little perve!" She snapped at him, trying to not giggle.

"Am not!" Warren protested. "If anything I'm a _big_ perve!"

Ann rolled her eyes and turned back to her work.

"You're impossible."

"Seriously." Warren continued in an attempt to placate her. "I didn't actually think that you would have the agility or anything. But now that I know you do, what else can you do?"

"Um." Ann looked up at the ceiling, considering. "I get really heightened senses when I'm really upset, and I mean _really_ upset. Aside from that and the occasional purring, not much."

Warren raised his eyebrows, and reached a tentative finger over to rub her behind the ear. True enough, she started to lightly rub back against his hand and give of a soft purring sound. Warren grinned and laughed.

"That is so weird!" He exclaimed, and Ann smiled.

"Do you know, you look really… well… gorgeous when you do that?"

Do what?" Asked Warren, finally pulling his hand away.

"Smile. And I don't mean one of your little I-can-fry-you-and-we-both-know-it smirks, but really smile."

Just for that, Warren grinned again and ran a hand lightly over her hair.

"So what about instincts?"

Ann nodded slowly.

"Actually, that to sometimes. They're just so much a part of me, sometimes I forget."

"Like what?"

"Oh, try to get out of the way when large fireballs are coming towards you."

"Oh, very funny." Warren droned, rolling his eyes. "Seriously." Suddenly getting a mock-worried expression, he looked her up and down. "You don't go into… _heat_, do you?"

Ann cast him a cold look out of the corner of her eye, and chuckled.

"No, wouldn't that be awful though!"

"Let me think." Warren considered. "Me all alone in a romantic mansion with a lovely, in-heat elemental… hmm."

Ann reached over with one hand and cuffed him on the back of the head.

"Cut it out."

Warren only chuckled.

"Tell me, what are your instincts telling you to do now?"

"Beat you over the head with a rolled up newspaper."

Warren pouted.

"But why?"

"Because you're distracting me from my work! Now go, shoo!" She waved a hand in a 'shooing' gesture.

Warren ignored it, and just watched her type for a few more minutes.

"And you're sure you don't go into heat?" He finally asked hopefully.

"Warren, get me today's newspaper!" Ann snapped back.

"Alright!" He said, holding up his hands. "I surrender!"

"No, really." She replied, looking at him with a dead-serious look on her face. "I need today's newspaper."

"Um, okay." Warren finally agreed, and went to get it.

Ann took it and looked through it to find the front page. Pulling it out, she promptly rolled it up and proceeded to beat him over the head and shoulders with it!

"Hey?" Warren protested. "I thought you needed it?"

"I did! You needed to be hit!" Ann said as she settled back down. "Oh, Mother of bloody baby Jesus in his bloody little manger!" She suddenly exclaimed.

"What?" Asked Warren.

"I had this great idea and now I can't remember it! Thanks a lot, Warren." She replied.

"You know," He commented. "Most people just say 'Mother of God'."

"I don't believe in the Trinity." Ann snapped back. "Now go away."

"Okay, maybe I was a _little_ out of line before."

Ann turned to look at him, her face truly serious now.

"I'm serious Warren. Go away."

Warren smirked ever so slightly at her and left to go watch the movie with Ariel. At least she didn't have sudden mood changes for no reason. Women.

* * *

I am **_so_** sorry this has taken so long. I've been a bit busy with schoolwork and stuff. Not to mention I'm dangerously close to running out of ideas. You see I had it all planned out up to… well… about this chapter. After that, everything is a little sketchy. So if anyone has any ideas, or things they would like to see happen, then feel free to throw them my way. I would really love to hear about it.

I would like to extend special thanks to Siyavash, who has been throwing ideas my way since day one, and has always kept me on the straight and narrow road leading away from Mary-Sue-ness.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Insomnia sucks.

That's pretty much all that Ann was thinking that night. Something was nagging at the back of her mind. It was several things, actually. Ann got out of bed and began a list. Writing lists always seemed to help her to relax.

Ann's List of Things That Are Bothering the Tweedle Out of Her 

Being snappish with Warren. And while he probably deserved it, I am trying to be a little… nicer to him. Being snappish is not nice.

Having to take care of Ariel _and_ Warren. At this point, both of them are acting like total infants.

Having to take care of Ariel and Warren, _and_ go to school, _and_ get all of my homework done, _and_ remember to threaten Lash into getting Warren's homework, _and_ buttering Speed up enough to take notes for Warren. **Note:** Batting eyes are very effective in this case.

The mere fact that Warren Peace has been staying in my house for the past couple days, and now that he has discovered my cache of Chex Mix, seems content to stay for as long as it lasts. I mean, WARREN-FREAKING-PEACE, ladies and gentlemen! I will not go into details, but anyone with half a brain, which Warren appears to be lacking, can tell why this makes me… tense.

Ann sighed. At least she could fix one of those. Pulling her nightgown on, she padded softly downstairs and peeked into the living room. Warren was sleeping peacefully, and Ann took the moment to study his features. She admitted that it was a cliché, but when he was asleep, and his face was relaxed, he looked a lot less… fear inspiring. Unable to resist, she walked over quietly and brushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

"Hmm?"

She jumped slightly. Dang, he was awake!

"Oh, um, I just wanted to say I was sorry for being so bitchy this morning. I'm… a little stressed."

One of Warren's eyes popped open, and he studied her.

"How so?"

Ann sighed and sat down at the opposite end of the couch, in front of Warren's feet.

"Just the usual. Schoolwork, the like."

Warren only gave a 'humph' in response, and shut his eye again.

"Warren, um, I was thinking…"

Ann restrained as squeak as he growled softly, but he didn't nuke her, so she continued.

"If you feel up to it, maybe we could go riding tomorrow. I mean, assuming you know how to ride."

His eye opened again, and he glared at her. She smiled sheepishly.

"Of course, you know how to do _everything_. I'll be going now." Resisting the urge to back out kowtowing, Ann hurried back up to her room, and took a flying leap into her bed.

"You look cheerful." Remarked Wren from his position in the corner.

"I most certainly am." Ann proclaimed.

…

"Good morning, Warren. How do you take your eggs? Scrambled? Scrambled it is then."

Warren blinked. He had been awoken from his slumber by the smell of cooking, and _morning_ cooking at that. Ignoring her assumption on his choice of eggs, which was actually accurate, he stumbled over to the island in the center of the kitchen, and poured himself some orange juice. After the first few sips, he felt human again, and greeted Ann.

"Morning." He grunted.

"I got your favorite orange juice." Ann pointed out, waving her spatula in the direction of the carton. "Pulp thick enough to chew."

Warren looked at it, realizing that she was correct. Wow, someone who actually remembered a brief, abstract conversation that might have involved orange juice.

"You are very odd." Warren said, and Em snickered and nodded, humming and dancing along to a tune in her head as she continued cooking.

She was interrupted by a soft, wailing sound coming from upstairs. Ann looked up and frowned.

"Oh, sounds like Baby's up. Could you go get her ready, please?"

"Um." Warren looked around, possibly for an escape route.

"Oh come on. She's like, nine months old, she doesn't care who dressed and undressed her."

With a sigh, and a shake of the head, Warren pushed aside his glass and headed upstairs. In her room, Ariel was lying in her crib, sobbing for all she was worth. When Warren picked her up, she sniffed a few more times, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

"Okay, now what shall you wear today?" Warren said, half to himself, half to the child.

Balancing on his hip with one arm, he looked through the drawers of her dresser with the other. Inside, he found a dazzling and overwhelming display of clothes, from dresses to onesies. Considering that they were going outside, he finally settled on a pair of pink corduroy overalls, a little pink Seattle Mariner's t-shirt, plain white socks, and little white tennis shoes.

Looking dubiously at Ariel, he silently begged her to behave. With a few minutes of wiggling, and at times pure Jell-o-ness, he managed to get her into the shirt and overalls. After that, Ariel lay patiently while Warren put on her socks and shoes, tying the laces into neat bows. Surveying his handiwork, Warren felt a surge of pride. Why, he had no idea. But he felt it.

Grabbing a small hairbrush for her curls, he carried her downstairs and sat her down on the counter next to his orange juice. Ann looked over at her and smiled.

"Aw, doesn't she look adorable?" She cooed. "Doesn't Wawwen have good taste?"

'Wawwen', rolled his eyes, and started heating up a bottle of milk for her from the fridge. It really surprised him how much he put up with from Em. But she didn't mean any harm from it, and it was her nature to be friendly and occasionally silly, so he made a few concessions for her.

Meanwhile, Ann pulled the platter of scrambled eggs out from the oven, where she had been keeping them warm, and put them next to the plate of crêpes she had just finished.

"See." She said, grinning. "I can make creeps!"

"That's definitely what you're going to be having once you start breeding." Warren teased back, and Ann responded by tossing one of the thin pancakes in his general direction.

…

Warren looked Ann up and down as she came outside of the house. She was wearing her old cowboy hat from before, as well as an equally old and beat up dark brown, oilskin outback coat. Ann saw his looked and laughed.

"How to look like Jim Craig in one easy step." Seeing his baffled look, Ann looked at him like he had just given God the finger. "Don't tell me you've never heard of The Man From Snowy River?"

Warren shook his head, and Ann rolled her eyes as she locked the door.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have lived a deprived life? You've never seen Arabian Nights, which you have to admit is a classic,"

"Yes, Ember."

"You've never seen The Man From Snowy River, which is a total and _complete_ classic. Next you're going to tell me you haven't seen Dr. Strangelove!"

"I've seen Dr. Strangelove!" Warren protested as they walked toward the barn, him carrying Ariel, Ann carrying a full saddlebag.

Em threw her free hand up to the sky in mock-thanks-to-the-almighty, and he reached over to swat her, making Ariel coo happily. Her sister gave her a sharp look.

"Now look at you! Turning my own sister against me."

Warren only laughed.

As they entered the stables, Warren looked around to find about a dozen stalls, six on each side. Four of them were occupied, and on each door there was a brass nameplate. Ann introduced him to each.

The first was White Wizard, who neighed happily when he saw the pyro.

The second was named Leroy Brown, and was a handsome reddish Buckskin Gelding. At about 15 hands, he was a smaller Quarter Horse then Wizard, but he was also older, and very gentle.

The final two were Arabians. The first of these was a blood bay named Sir Percival Fluffypants, also known as Fluffy. He, however, didn't seem to have any idea of his name, and was quite happy to parade himself in front of his friends, and generally make a grand show of himself. Like most Arabians, he was a smaller horse at 14.5 hands.

The horse next to him was just a little taller at 15 hands, and she was Ann's own personal pet. She had gotten her when she was a foal, and had simply named her Fog, for her beautiful Grey color.

"I imagine you'll be riding Wizard." Ann remarked.

Warren only nodded in reply as he gently rubbed Fog's nose. Meanwhile, Ann led Wizard out, and began to saddle him. Warren lightly brushed her to the side, and began to do it himself. With a smile, the Elemental turned to saddle Fog. Once they were both finished, she put a pair of saddlebags on Leroy, as well as a lead.

"What about Fluffy?" Asked Warren.

"I just exercised him this morning. Besides, he's too much of a pansy to go out in the cold."

"_Hm, doesn't this sound like someone we know?"_

"_Shut up."_

"_He has a point."_

"_Shut up,** both of you**."_

Ann grabbed a helmet from a hook that she thought would fit him, and offered it to Warren. After looking at it blankly for a moment, he suddenly realized that she expected him to _wear_ it.

"Don't need it." He said simply, and she nodded sardonically.

"Oh right, I forgot. Your Mum's the one with the impervious-thing going, isn't she?"

Warren rolled his eyes.

"It's called _Temporary_ Imperviousness. The more of a beating she, _we_ get, the more of a…"

"Blood-frenzy?" Ann suggested off-handedly, and Warren scowled at her.

"Now why would you put it that way?"

"I've read up on it a bit." She explained. "From what I understand your body creates a sort of hyper-adrenaline. The more pain your body registers, the more of it is released into your body, making it extremely difficult to actually hurt you. An interesting side affect of this is a sort of single-mindedness when it comes to, em, defeating the opponent."

"You read too much." He answered, flicking her shoulder.

…

"You're weird, you know that, Em?"

"A cradleboard is not weird. The Native Americans used them for God-knows-how-long quite successfully."

"Yeah, I can understand that. But do we have to take the guitar along too?"

"Nothing like spot of music while relaxing, surrounded by nature."

They had ridden for about twenty minutes till they got to a clearing in the woods, right off the well-beaten path they had been following. Like the one where Eva was buried, the lake ran by it, bubbling softly as it ran over the smooth gray rocks. Ann took Ariel out of her cradleboard, setting her down so that she could crawl about and look at the flowers, as well has her guitar case, and the saddlebags. Out of them, she took tuna sandwiches, fruit salads, various cheeses, crackers, and for dessert, her very own brownies, which Warren was addicted to. All of this was stored in Tupperware so it wasn't squished, and insulated so that it didn't get warm.

Since Ariel wasn't hungry yet, they let her move about where she willed within their line of sight. Lying stretched out on a blanket that Em had brought, she and Warren ate quietly as they watched the little girl play.

"She seems so much older than her age." Warren said.

"Well, she is the granddaughter of a Feline Shapechanger. We tend to grow faster then other children. But Ariel is also a very smart girl, she picks things up quickly."

"I've noticed." He smiled and peered at the tuna sandwich she handed to him. "No pickle?"

"I hate pickles." Ann said, making a face. "And I refuse to inflict it on anyone else, even if they don't know its infliction."

"Mm." Warren said around a mouthful of tuna. "So, tell me about Lash. Somehow he's never struck me as your type."

"Nosy aren't we?" She replied, though with a light tone. "Besides, he isn't my type. I was friends with his sister."

"What happened?"

Ann looked down at her palms, suddenly very quiet.

"Mm, she died." She finally murmured.

Warren studied her. He didn't apologize for asking. There was really no purpose to doing that anyway.

"How did she die?" He asked.

"Oh, it's a long story… and a boring one." Em said passively. The way she said it, he could tell that she was obviously trying to hide something.

"Really, Em. What happened?"

She looked up at him sideways, her hair veiling one eye.

"We went to the same school, the one I just came from. The first day, a girl lost control of her powers and killed her."

Warren thought about what she had said, and frowned.

"I remember hearing about something like that. But didn't the other girl have the crap beaten out of her a few days later?"

Ann glanced to the side. Warren half expected her to start whistling innocently at any moment.

"Ember." He drew her name out.

"What?" She asked sharply. "I'm not sorry. She was an arrogant git and deserved to feel a small fraction of the pain she caused us… Andy and me. I even made sure that he didn't kill her, just made her incapable of moving for the next couple of years. It was far better then what she did to Willow."

There was a pause, in which Warren gave her one of his 'looks'.

"Did I say that I blamed you?"

"Um, no." Ann conceded.

Warren let it go at that. He at least knew now what the deal was with her and Lash. Deaths had a way of bringing people together… and pushing them apart. Of course, it also appeared that they had both, if not Ann at least, had outgrown their previous friendship. Warren wasn't complaining.

"Now you have to tell me something about you?"

"Oh boy." He muttered. This was turning into something resembling Truth or Dare, or maybe just Truth. Either way, he hated that game.

"Don't worry, nothing too embarrassing. I was wondering why you worked at the Paper Lantern."

The pyromani… er… pyrokinetic breathed a mental sigh of relief. That was an easy one.

"It belongs to my grandmother. My Mom's mom."

"Oh! How lovely!" Ann exclaimed. "She's Chinese?"

"Mm hm. She taught me to speak it too. My maternal grandfather is totally and completely American, and my father's family is Italian."

"Wow. Me, I'm totally and completely English." She said, taking the liberty of quoting him. "Though my Mother's family is German. With a name like 'Yost', who would have thought?"

"Really." Warren agreed, chuckling.

There was another pause. Not one of those, I-have-no-idea-what-to-say-but-I'm-going-to-try-desperatly-to-find something silences. But the kind where neither person feels the real need to say anything, and if they think of something to say, they say it. Until then, the silence remains comfortable and completely unbroken save for the sounds around them.

"I was just thinking." Ann began.

"That must've hurt."

At this point, they had also gotten used to insulting each other. In this case, this one, and variations thereof, was their way of saying, 'Do tell.'

"When is the homecoming dance?"

"Next Saturday. My mom's threatening to disinherit me if I don't go and behave like, as she says, a normal human being for once."

"Mine too."

They looked at each other, realization dawning.

"It's a plot! A plot I say!" Ann shouted laughingly.

"Probably." Warren agreed, and grinned. "It would be interesting."

"What?" Asked Ann, knowing full well what he was talking about.

"If we went to the dance together." His expression turned to a slight glare then. "But it's not going to happen."

"Why not?" Ann complained, and smiled deviously. "I'll bet you can't dance."

Warren looked at her drolly. If only she knew.

"I can dance. What about you?"

"I went to a British private school. We didn't have a gym teacher we had a dance mistress. Come on." She wheedled. "The facial expressions would be priceless."

"We could stand to the side and make fun of people." Warren added with a slight smirking smile.

"And glower at them."

"And eat cheese cubes."

They exchanged another look, and burst out laughing. All of the horses and Ariel looked over to see the two rolling on the ground, overcome with mirth, and shook their heads.

"It's settled then." Warren said, wiping a tear away. "Should I pick you up?"

"Depends, do you have a car that flies?"

"No, do you?" He retorted.

"Good point, but I think I could get my Dad to let me borrow his stealth plane… helicopter… thingy."

Warren stared at her.

"He's designing this little stealth plane thing for some superhero team. I think he'll let me borrow it. I'm not sure if he would let you go along though."

"That's fine." He replied. "I'll probably go along with Will anyway."

"A corsage isn't necessary." Ann reassured him.

Warren gave a fake sigh of relief and rolled his eyes up to the sky in a silent prayer of thanks. Ann just hit him upside the head.

…

When they got back, Ann peeked her head into the fridge.

"Looks like we'll have to go grocery shopping pretty soon."

"When are you're parents coming back?" Warren asked.

"Two days. We can go now. There's a Safeway not far from here." Looking over at him, she gave Warren a pathetic look. "Yes, I'm afraid we will have to emerge, and rejoin the world of the living."

"In other words boring." He grumbled, tossing his jacket over a chair, and continued. "And hectic, and annoying, and completely devoid of home baked snacks, let alone a constant supply."

"We live right next door, dearie. You can come over any time. Besides, Mom loves it when people come over. Not to mention handsome young pyros who give her daughter some semblance of a social life."

"Did she say I was handsome?" He asked, glancing in a mirror, in jest of course.

"I believe her exact words were more along the lines of, 'The hottest thing I have ever seen before in my life'. At which point my Dad began to reconsider his views on assassination."

"I'll keep that in mind."

…

"Did you bring the list?" Warren asked Em as he set Ariel down in the front of their cart.

"Right here." She said, pulling it out of her purse.

"Ann, that's not a shopping list, that's an… essay."

"But an essay on ice cream, milk, cheese, pot pies, and other goodies."

He only rolled his eyes as she began to decorously bark directions to the dairy section.

"Hey! Warren!"

They both turned to see the five musketeers themselves coming toward them, their own cart piled high with sodas and snacks.

"Ann?" Layla looked at her with surprise, and then at Warren.

Ann smiled politely while Warren and Will greeted each other in one of the ways that only males can, and are lost to try to describe or explain. Layla and Magenta pulled her to the side.

"I'm sorry, but last time I checked you two were… off." Magenta said, sensing something truly glorious was happening.

"Oh, it's a long story. Essentially, we live next door to each other, have talked, he came to my families ranch over here, fell in the lake, got hypothermia followed by a cold, and he's been staying with me for the past few days." Ann rattled off nonchalantly.

"Really?" Layla said wonderingly.

"Really?" Mag said evilly. "And keeping you two company…"

"Um," Ann looked at the only slightly smaller girl nervously. "There's my sister."

Both of the other girls glanced at Ariel, who was blowing bubbles and jabbering to the boys happily, and back at her.

"Okay, spill." Magenta said.

"What?" Ann protested. "What are you talking about?"

"Right. You expect that you've had Warren Peace, gorgeous, pyrokinetic, nurse-maided, _Warren Peace_ alone and I'm guessing often helpless and/or shirtless for almost a week and you _haven't_ taken total and complete advantage of him?"

"Um, no." Ann admitted sheepishly.

Magenta threw up her hands in despair, and Em's face suddenly morphed into an evil grin a la her mother.

"It would have violated my ethics as a person taking care of a patient. Although, he is doing _much _better…" She trailed off, and Mag smiled back conspiratorially. Even Layla joined with a snicker.

Zach looked at them giggling and evilly-grinning.

"It's always the quiet ones." He said. When the other guys looked up at him, that is, looked up from Ariel, he pointed to the girls.

Warren's eyes narrowed and he walked over to them. All three girls looked up, way up, and smiled innocently.

"Yes?" Ann asked sweetly.

"I have come to a realization."

"What?"

"Anything more then two teenage girls together at the same time are trouble. Time to go." And he took hold of her elbow and began to drag her off. She only laughed and waved to Mag and Layla. When they were driving back, Warren continued.

"Really. Those two were perfectly well behaved until you came along, and now I turn my back for one second and you three are whispering."

"What's wrong with whispering?"

"Nothing, unless girls do it. Then you _know_ they're talking about you."

Ann opened her mouth, closed it, thought for a moment, and shrugged.

"I can't really argue with that logic. Say, why don't we have all of them over tomorrow? We'll be going back to the normal world the day after, it would be nice to hang out with them."

"Huh." Warren looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"What?" Ann asked when she caught his stare.

"It's just, you never seemed very eager to have much to do with them before."

"I guess," Ann said, smiling softly, "They understand me a lot better then I thought."

Warren smirked.

"I'm glad my presence has had such an enlightening effect."

Warren Peace got hit a lot that day.

* * *

Okay. I'm sorry this has taken so long. Writer's block sucks. But I managed to finish the last couple of scenes quite easily. Just one more full day before our intrepid explorers head back into society. Now what could possibly happen (Re: Go wrong) in one day? 


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter XII

By the time Will, Layla, and co. arrived, Ann was very diligently practicing her guitar, and Warren was on his 523rd round of Pat-a-Cake with Ariel. As soon as the doorbell rang Warren made a beeline for it in an attempt to escape the obsessive child.

"Hey guys. Come in." Warren waved.

When the group came into the living room, Ann looked up and smiled at them. Magenta and Layla went over to see what she was playing, while the boys began gushing over her DVD and Playstation 2 collection.

"Classical Gas?" Layla asked, puzzling over the odd name.

"You've never heard of it?" Ann said, surprised. "It's really good. Difficult, but good. I've been working on it for awhile now."

Magenta leaned over Ann's other shoulder, studying the notes.

"I've heard it." She said. "I like it. What else do you play?"

With a little grin, the elemental flipped to a different song in her binder, and sang unnecessarily cheerfully.

Lovers forever  
Face to face  
My city or mountains  
Stay with me stay  
I need you to love me  
I need you today  
Give to me your leather  
Take from me  
My lace

Warren leaned back and shot her an "I'm SO not amused" look, making her double over her guitar with laughter. Layla and Magenta glanced at each other over the convulsing girl and smiled, shaking their heads.

"I like that one." Said Layla, once Ann had gotten control of herself again. "Can you play it for me?"

"Not with this." She replied, gesturing towards the instrument in her lap. "This is a classical. This is meant for a steel-string."

"Ah." Mag nodded in understanding. "I hear you have horses."

Ann grinned. "Yeah. Wanna see them?"

…

Walking towards the stables, leaving the boys to try and beat Warren's records on Dead or Alive 2. They left quickly, followed closely by shouts of, "Nooooo!" and "You just pile-drived Lei Fang you creep!" as well as no small amount of maniacal laughter.

Ann chuckled at Layla's horrified look.

"Warren has perfected the fine art of fighting with Ryu."

Layla shrugged, not really knowing what she was talking about, but accepted her comment.

"You like him don't you."

Ann frowned at Mag.

"What? Warren?" When she nodded, Em laughed. "That would be creepy."

"Why?" Asked Layla.

The other girl hesitated. She trusted the girls to a certain extent, but she wasn't sure if she trusted them _that_ much.

Magenta bumped shoulders with her playfully.

"C'mon. You can tell us. Just about nothing you say could shock us."

"Unless you say he's your long-lost brother, at which point I will have to laugh my butt off." Layla added, and Mag nodded philosophically.

"Actually," Ann said, "My mother is, was… Eva Yost."

The two other girls stopped dead in their tracks, and stared at Ann.

"Eva Yost." Magenta repeated. "As in, the one who was…?"

"With Warren's father?" Layla finished when the other trailed off, and Ann blushed.

"Yeah."

Magenta frowned and considered this new information, before coming to a disicion.

"I think it's romantic."

Ann gave her the 'Three-heads' look that Warren had been teaching her.

"Yeah. I mean, in an odd sort of way." Layla agreed.

"Assuming you liked him."

"Which you never answered."

Ann took the first opportunity she could think of to evade that question.

"So, you're okay with me being the daughter of a… y'know… villain?"

"Warren is, and we're cool with him." Magenta pointed out. "You're obviously not like her in that way. So I really have no problem with it."

"Me neither." Said Layla. Ann smiled and wrapped an arm around each of her friends.

"You guys are the best."

"Speaking of which," Magenta asked, grinning. "How did Warren react when he found out?"

Ann rolled her eyes.

"Let me tell you."

…

"Ann! Phone!"

"You get it!"

"It's your phone!"

They were all gathered together in the living room watching Ann and Warren try to whoop each other's butts at DOA2, when the telephone rang. Finally, Ann gave up and ran into the kitchen, wincing at the sound effects as her character was KO'd yet again.

"Hello?"

"_Hello, is this the Cromwell residence?"_

"Yeah."

"_I understand that I reach Warren Peace at this number."_

"Yeah, just as second." Putting a hand over the receiver, Ann turned and shouted into the other room. "Warren! It's for you!"

He sighed and hurried over to take the phone from her. Ann went back in with the others and watched while Will and Zach began a game. A minute later, Warren came back in, a very, very dark frown marring his already dark features. Ann noticed immediately, and stood up from her position of leaning over the back of the couch, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

"Warren? What's wrong?" She asked softly, almost as if talking to a frightened animal ready to pounce.

"That was…" His voice broke slightly, and he cleared his throat before trying to speak again. By this time the others had turned to look at him, all interest in their game gone.

"That was the prison where… where my father is."

Ann drew in a sharp breath and stepped a little closer to him, her eyes filled with worry.

"What did they have to say?" She prompted him.

"He's in…" He looked down, shook his head, and finished in a bit of a rush. "They said that he's in the infirmary."

His friends exchanged looks all around. It would have to be something very bad for Barron Battle to be incapacitated enough that they would trust him outside of solitary.

"Warren." Ann stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. "What is it?"

"He's dying." Warren finally choked out. "He wants to see me. They asked if I could come over immediately."

"Are you?" Asked Ann, voicing the question that had been running through his mind madly since he had hung up.

"I don't know." He admitted.

"If you'll excuse me putting in my two cents worth." She said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I can think of two important questions right now. One, how much would you regret it if he died without you seeing him. And two, should you be thinking about him right now as a villain who did many horrible things, or as a dying man who wants to see his son."

Warren gazed at her, brown into gray, and nodded.

"You're right. I should go." He turned away quickly, heading for the door. Ann took a quick step forward and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Wait. I'll go with you."

He turned around, a little surprised, and Ann gave him a brief smile.

"Trust me. You don't want to do this on your own. No matter how macho you may be."

Warren gave her a single nod, and turned back to get his coat. Ann gave the others, who were a little dumbfounded, an apologetic smile, and followed him.

…

Their drive there was completely silent. Oddly enough, Warren knew exactly which way to go. When he was younger, he had developed a habit of looking at maps of where his father was. Eventually, they had been somewhat seared into his memory.

They were still silent as they entered the large, imposing stone building, signed in, and followed a man to the room outside where his father was. To their surprise there was a person already there.

She wasn't extremely tall, perhaps just a few fractions of an inch taller then Ann. Her high, delicate cheekbones, jet-black hair, and slightly slanted eyes gave away her Asian ancestry. Her eyes, however, were a deep blue, and deep within them Ann could see a hint of something familiar, an incredible strength that this woman had passed on to her son.

"Mom." She had never heard her friend use such a soft tone before. He walked over to his mother quickly and wrapped his arms around the smaller woman. Ann understood this. Barron was this woman's husband, she loved him, and she would mourn him. Just has her father had mourned her mother.

Looking over Warren's shoulder, Rosalind Li-Mei Peace noticed the other person in the room for the first time, and she drew away from her son slowly. Ann took a small step forward.

"Mrs. Peace." Ann whispered softly, shaking the other woman's hand. It made sense now. She had probably told them where to reach Warren.

"You are Ember Cromwell." She said simply.

"Yes Ma'am." Ann replied.

"I," Rosalind paused, considering her words. "Am very glad that you are here."

Needless to say, Ann was surprised, but she didn't have the time to ask questions as a young doctor came out of the other room, a very serious look on his face. He barely spared her a glance, but nodded at Warren.

"Mrs. Peace."

"How is he?" She asked, her voice wavering.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your husband has had Leukemia for the past eighteen months. He asked me not to inform you or your son, and as his doctor I had to respect his wishes. I'm afraid that his cancer has taken a turn for the worse… much worse."

"But why?" A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Your husband made the decision not to go through with treatment when we told him that he had Chronic Leukemia. I believe that he didn't want to worry you."

"Fine job." Muttered Warren as he wrapped an arm around his mother's shoulders. "How much longer?"

"A month. Maybe two. He asked to see the both of you as soon as possible."

Rosalind looked up at Warren and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You go. I can wait."

Warren scowled. He didn't want to see him, the man who had directly and indirectly caused so much pain to others, even… no, _especially_ to his own family. His eyes lit on Ann's.

"Will you come in with me?" He asked her, and she only nodded. He didn't even have to ask really.

Rosalind didn't object when Ann walked past her and followed Warren to the open door. As they entered, she saw that everything was a typical glaring white or metal. There was the usual hospital equipment. Monitors, counters with jars filled with cotton swabs on them, and a bed.

Ann's heart clenched. For a moment she thought she would retch. He looked just as she remembered him, only a little older, and he looked tired. Barron Battle. Warren's father. Her mother's lover.

"Warren?" He asked softly when he saw the tall, handsome young man standing over him. "You came."

Warren nodded, and his father's eyes drifted to Ann, and a soft smile graced his lips.

"Eva." He whispered.

Ann winced. That was definitely not something she needed to hear right at that moment.

"No." Barron said, blessedly negating the need for a correction. "For a moment, seeing you, I forgot. You must be her daughter. You must be Ember. Come here."

Hesitantly, Ann stepped closer, and his smile widened.

"So you came here with Warren? I'm glad. I always wished you two could be friends. You were always so much alike. But now, I would like to talk to my son alone for a moment, and then my wife, and then, little Em, I would like to talk with you."

Ann blinked furiously, trying to not burst into tears right in front of these two men. One who she had once had such deep admiration and respect for, the other who she still did.

"If that's what you want." She didn't direct the question to Barron, but to the other, and Warren nodded. As quickly as she could, Ann stumbled out of the room and shut the door behind her.

* * *

So, this chapter is a bit shorter, but I didn't think it needed to be as long as the others. I felt that this was a good place to stop for now. Enough angst for one chapter! There will probably be a whole boatload in the next. Rolls eyes at self

Anyways, I just wanted to explain why this chapter has taken longer. Not only am I a procrastinator, and often very, very lazy, but I am actually _busy_ for once! I will write and update when I can, which won't be too far apart now that I've reached a place that I actually have a bit more planned out then that other stuff before (Motions over shoulder). But yeah, I won't be quite as much of a chapter-spewing machine as before. Hahaha. Rolls eyes again


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter XIII

All Ann could think as she walked back into the waiting room was that she hoped that Warren's mother didn't ask her anything, because she really didn't think she could stand trying to explain herself at that moment.

He was right in the other room. Ann had always taken it for granted that she would never see him, never talk to him. Barron Battle was the man that her mother had loved above all others. More then her father, and more then Ann. All at once, all of the bitter feelings that she had tried to disguise and push down welled up again. Who did he think he was? What right did he have to say that he wanted to talk to _her_? It was his fault that she didn't have a mother.

"People make their own choices. People are responsible for their own actions."

Ann looked up to see Rosalind gazing at her with thoughtful, almond-shaped eyes. The older woman stood leaning against the wall across from Ann's seat on one of the overly used chairs in the room.

"What?" Ann asked softly.

"I know what you're thinking about," she said in her quiet, yet commanding soprano. "It doesn't take a telepath to guess. But the truth is just what I said. You can't blame everyone else for yours, or someone else's problems. Your mother never did that… and neither did my husband."

Rosalind Li-Mei Peace was a strong woman. She had to be, raising a hotheaded boy like Warren by herself for so many years. And yet, at this moment, Ann also saw fragility in her, and she couldn't help but respect her.

"You're right," she admitted.

"You don't have her coloring," Rosalind commented, cocking her head to the side as if it would help her to see the girl better. "And you have your father's nose. But your eyes are the same, and your mouth. I can see why he wishes to speak with you."

"I was wondering that myself."

"Because, Ember, if Barron can find forgiveness in you, it is the closest thing to him finding forgiveness in your mother that he is likely to get in this life."

"Why would he want that?" Ann asked with a frown, noting the lack of the use of her mothers name in the conversation. It wasn't really that hard to say. E-V-A. E-va. Sheesh.

"Barron has always held himself responsible for your mother's death."

"Eva." Ann whispered as she thought over this latest piece of information. Rosalind smiled indulgently.

"Yes. Eva." she agreed.

"But why tell _me_ this?"

Rosalind sighed, and walked across the room slowly to sit in the chair beside Ann's.

"I remember a time, not so long ago, when I agonized over this all day, every day. Eventually I got over it. I learned to forgive. But I can see that you haven't quite reached that part yet."

Ann studied the expression of her friend's mother carefully.

"You're a much better woman then I am, Mrs. Peace," she finally admitted.

"Bull." Rosalind countered. "I'm just older. Be sure, one day you'll be as old and 'experienced' as I am."

Ann could practically _hear_ the quotation marks in her tone. With a sigh she let her head fall back onto the back of her seat. She could feel physical and emotional exhaustion begin to creep up on her. The past month she had been through an emotional roller coaster, and it had affected her sleep. Rosalind seemed to notice this, and let her rest. Soon she was asleep despite the uncomfortable position. She was so deep in sleep that she didn't even notice when Warren came out.

Rosalind smiled at him lovingly, and stood up from her seat. Wordlessly she ran a hand over her son's cheek. She felt a pang of nostalgia as she looked up at him. He had grown into such a handsome young man, and was now even taller then his father.

"He wants to see you," said Warren.

Rosalind smiled and nodded. "Ember is sleeping."

Warren looked over her shoulder at the girl. She had curled up into an astonishingly tiny ball in her chair, and her head had fallen to rest on her shoulder. He nodded, silently agreeing to let her rest.

An hour later Rosalind came out, hastily brushing a few stray tears from her cheeks. She gave her son a shaky, but content smile. He had been sitting next to Ann, letting her use his shoulder as a pillow, since the angle was a lot better for her neck then the way she was sleeping before. Now he gave her a gentle nudge to wake her up. Her eyes blinked open slowly, and she looked around a moment, taking in her surroundings.

"Hey," Warren said quietly, and she turned her head to look up at him. "It's time."

Ann groaned dejectedly. She really had little desire to talk to Barron Battle, but she supposed that he deserved the chance to… Actually, she didn't know what chance he deserved. She just had the feeling he did.

Running a hand through her slightly mussed up hair, she stepped back through the door to Barron's room. He was sitting up now, looking a little bit more alert, and a lot more imposing, then the last time she had seen him. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped over to stand beside him when he beckoned her with a hand. She nearly turned around and ran back out when she looked into his eyes. They were the same deep, ruby red that she remembered both from her childhood, and from her dreams.

"Little Ember," he murmured in amazement. "You've grown so much. Please, sit down."

The chair she sat down in at least had a better cushion then the ones in the waiting room, but to Ann it felt ten times worse.

"Where do I start?" Barron continued, half to himself. Ann shrugged, feeling little desire to try and make this more comfortable. "How old are you now?"

"I'll be sixteen in December," she said simply.

Barron smiled. "I still remember the day you were born. Rose and I came to the hospital as soon as your father called. Your mother…" He trailed off for a moment, lost in the memory, before he collected himself again.

"I had never seen her so happy, or so beautiful then the day you came into her life."

Ann couldn't help it. Her stomach did a flip-flop. "Really?" She asked, her voice catching.

"Oh yes," he replied. With a grin he added, "Do you know, Warren was there too?"

"No kidding," Ann said with an answering smile.

"Of course, he was just a baby himself. I remember Rosy telling me that you two met once more several years later."

Ann frowned. "I don't remember."

"I believe you were about two years old then. Eva and Rose both went to a get-together at Sky High. I believe they were helping to decorate for the prom, or was it homecoming…?" he paused for a moment with a thoughtful expression, but quickly shook it off. "Anyway, you two came along. Eva told me later that Josie Stronghold was talking to her. You had been just standing beside your mother without saying a word; you were always a very quiet child. Josie, without a glance at you, asked her if you had said your first word yet."

"And then what?" Ann asked, finding herself fascinated with both the story and Barron's voice.

"Well, then you looked right up at her and said plain as day, 'Hello? I'm right down here!'"

Ann burst out laughing. "I don't remember that, but I do remember that I always hated it when people talked about me as if I wasn't there."

Barron shrugged. "Josie Stronghold always did have a little too high opinion of her own likeability. But even better, Rose and Warren were standing right next to them. I understand that at that point, Warren looked up at Rose with a perfectly serious expression and said, 'Mom, I think I just met my future wife.'"

Another peal of giggles ripped it's way out of Ann's mouth. The though of a little four year old Warren proclaiming that he was going to marry her was just too much.

Meanwhile, Barron smiled at her. "It's good to hear you laugh. It's a lot like your mother's."

All of a sudden, Ann found the mirth fading as the memories of who this man was, and what he had done to her family came back in a rush.

"Ember," Barron began, frowning at her sudden seriousness. "I want to ask you to do something for me."

"What?" Ann didn't truly know whether she were asking him what he wanted, or for him to repeat what he had said so that she could make sure she didn't need a seriously powerful hearing aid.

"I want you to look after Warren for me."

"What?" she repeated, but louder this time. A disbelieving grin crossed her face. Her? Looking after Warren? It was more likely that if their friendship lasted, it would be _him_ constantly saving _her_ butt.

"Because unlike people who control Earth, or Air, or Water, people can't understand those who control Fire. I think they don't really want to. They don't want to believe that we have very little power over who we are. The only people who really do are other Pyrokinetics and…" he paused, waiting for her to finish the sentence. She obliged.

"Elementalists, because we are all of them. Because we know what it's like to constantly have to battle your instincts."

"Exactly. In Warren's life, he is going to have dozens of times where he is going to need someone who understands him to be there for him. Like Eva was there for me."

Ann raised an eyebrow.

"The thing was, I wasn't willing to listen. Eva was a strong-willed woman, but she couldn't stand up to me. I wish she had been. But Warren is different. When I watch him talking about you, his eyes light up. He respects you, and he cares for you. I never truly respected what Eva gave up for me until she was… gone."

"I…" Ann faltered, trying to think of what she could say to that. Everything came to her in a rush. Understanding, comprehension, whatever you wanted to call it. She understood far more then anyone would ever know what had happened between the man before her and her mother. Elements were pure instinct, they were pure elements, and so they were pure instinct.

She clenched her eyes shut. Now was definitely not the time to go over this.

"Alright," she said finally. "I'll do my best."

"That's all I ask," he agreed with a faint smile. "Now, I am sorry to cut this so short, but I really must get some rest. I hope to see you again soon."

Ann considered this, and then inclined her head slightly. "Maybe… we'll see." She said, and then left, closing the door softly behind her.

Turning around, she saw that Rosalind had gone home, but Warren had stayed behind.

"Don't you want to go with your Mom?" she asked.

Warren shook his head. "We talked about it. I'll be home tomorrow, and I didn't want to leave you all by yourself."

Ann looked down, not willing to look into his eyes. She couldn't say exactly why, but she suddenly felt a tremendous, irrational fear that his would be the same bloody color as his father's. Warren saw this and frowned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, confused at her behavior.

Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile that went nowhere near her eyes on her face, she looked back up and nodded.

"I think that's supposed to be my line," she said, and almost winced. In an attempt to sound joking through the emotions running through her, Ann's voice had cracked shrilly. Warren's frown deepened into the darkest scowl she had ever seen. For a moment she wanted to run and hide.

Spinning on his heel, Warren called back to her, "Come on, let's go."

…

The drive back to the old homestead was tense, to say the least. Though no words passed between them, there was enough emotion in the car to make up for the lack. With Warren it was anger, confusion, and a great deal of hurt as well. But Ann could barely begin to name everything she felt at that moment.

As they pulled up in front of the house, Ann thanked God that she had asked Layla to take Ariel over to her grandparents before they left. The little girl really didn't need to be stuck in the same house as a couple of insane teenagers.

As if to punctuate his displeasure, Warren made sure to slam the door loudly as they entered the house.

"_Another thing to be thankful for,"_ she thought. _"Solid oak doors."_

He then went on to bang, slam, or in other words, open and close loudly, anything he could get his hands on. A braver girl might have gotten annoyed, but Ann just got scared. Warren kept a tight rein on his temper when he was with her, and for him to so obviously show his irritation was enough to make her quiver inside.

"Just tell me why, Em!"

Ann had been sitting in the living room, trying to look busy lighting the fire, when she heard Warren shout from behind her. Under any other circumstances, he might have thought it was cute how much she looked like a surprised cat at that moment. One could almost see her hair stand up on end. Gathering the last few shreds of her dignity left she turned around calmly and looked at him.

"Tell you what, Warren?"

"Why…" for a moment he seemed unable to speak with rage. He was the kind of person who could go from 0 to 1000 in ten minutes if he dwelt on his feelings too long. Finally he managed to collect himself enough to continue.

"Why can't you just talk to me? I don't mean talking about Ariel, or what we should have for lunch, or even things that happened ten years ago. But what's happening right now! How you're feeling. What's going through your mind?"

Ann gave him a weak smile. "How do you know there's anything going through my mind?" She asked.

He threw up his hands in frustration. "There you go again!"

"Warren," Ann said, and walked around to stand in front of him. "If you could possibly tell me what brought this on…?"

"Before, do you think I ask you how you're doing because I get a kick out of it? I want to know what you are feeling!" He enunciated the last four words very clearly, growing louder with each one.

"I…" she began to explain, but Warren cut her off.

"Is it because you don't trust me? I thought we got past that a long time ago. But now it seems like the more time we spend together, the less you want to have to do with me," a sudden thought flashed through his mind. "Or is it because you don't want people to think that you're not the perfect little British prep school girl?"

Ann's eyes widened with shock. Is that what people thought of her? "I'm not perfect, Warren. What would make you think that?"

Warren laughed dryly. "Oh right, and I'm the long-lost brother of Bruce Wayne. Look at you. Despite everything that's happened to you, you still manage to have a father, mother, and sister who all love you. Not to mention everyone, and I do mean everyone, adores you the minute they see you. The worst part is, they have every reason to! You never lose your temper, never say the wrong thing, and you would never in any way risk getting in the tiniest bit of trouble with anyone. It seems that your only real problems started when you met me."

"That's not fair," Ann said between clenched teeth. _If only he knew._ "I have feelings just like everyone else. But it's hard to show any kind of feeling when every time you do something horrible happens. Everything else I either don't understand or just don't want to feel period! As for my behavior, there is nothing wrong with trying to be the best person I possibly can be."

"And the primmest, as well as the most obsessive-compulsively good, not to mention the one who rarely has any fun."

"What? Because I actually _think_ before doing whatever pops into my head?"

Warren took a step forward, bringing their noses a scant inch apart, and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Because you never just _do_ something you feel like doing. You always worry about consequences and what everyone will think about you. You probably couldn't blow your nose without making sure there wasn't anyone within a five mile radius who just _might_ be annoyed by it."

Ann rolled her eyes. "Isn't that being a little over dramatic?" Though she was remarkably quieter then Warren, she was quickly beginning to lose her carefully kept control over her temper.

"If you think I'm wrong then prove it. I'm sure there's a couple of things you'd _love_ to do right now," Warren's voice suddenly became dangerously low, daring her to try something.

A million possibilities ran through Ann's mind at that moment, all the way from slapping him as hard as she could to kneeing him so hard that he wouldn't be able to stand for a week.

"You want me to do something that I really want to do right now?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Yeah."

"Anything?"

Warren grinned, sure that she would never break past the carefully constructed walls around her temper. "Exactly. In fact, I dare y…"

He was abruptly cut off when he suddenly felt two small hands grab onto the lapels of his jackets and _shove_. Warren felt himself moving across the room until his back connected violently with the wall of the living room.

"Em w…"

Again he was interrupted, this time by something pressing sharply against his mouth. It was amazingly soft, warm, and tasted a bit like citrus against his lips. With a shock, Warren realized that Ember Hannah Cromwell was _kissing_ him!

…

Ember couldn't remember being so angry in her entire life as she was at the moment that Warren Peace dared her to hit him But of all of the ways she could cause him pain that were racing through her mind at that moment, there was only one thing that she really wanted to do. Grabbing his leather jacked she pushed him as hard as she could, and kept pushing until he collided with the wall behind them. Before he could say much of anything, she stood up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

A thrill ran through her, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. To be honest, the only thing that she had been able to think about around Warren for the past week was what it might be like to kiss him. And she hated it. She hated the idea that she might be more like her mother then ever before. Most of all, she hated the idea that she couldn't ever do anything about her feelings.

Feeling.

That was pretty much all she had at that moment, which was really only about five seconds, or how long it took for Warren to realize what the heck was happening. The feeling of leather against her palms, her toes and neck stinging with pain from having to adapt to his height, but most of all, the feeling of finally being able to let him know how much she cared about him.

With a gasp he pulled away just enough that he could look into her eyes. For the first time, he saw everything she had been trying to hide for the past week. All of the butterflies in her stomach when he grinned at her in the way that only he could that made his entire face light up, the pain of having to spend every day with him without him knowing, and the fear of what her life would be like if he ever left it.

This too, took only a second, and then he wrapped his arms around her waist, his muscles lifting her tiny frame up easily. Before she could protest he was kissing her back.

As they stood there in each other's arms, for the first time in a long time neither truly cared what people would say about them. And neither was enough aware of their surroundings to notice the fire begin to leap strangely inside the brick fireplace.


End file.
